A Pound of Flesh
by balletboots
Summary: Hermione Granger- she brought the light back into his otherwise cold, dark existence. He would kill her with his bare hands before he lost her to another, especially one of his own followers. She was his everything, even if she didn't quite know it. Even if it meant a pound of flesh, Tom Riddle cared not the price. He never would. She was is, always. TimeTravel/Dark Lord/Lemons
1. Accordingly

**2014**

"It's ridiculous." The red-headed boy shook his head, the auburn shaggy locks flying in all directions at a brisk pace. "Harry? Ginny? Mum?" Ron turned to everyone in Dumbledore's office. We sat in the home of a thousand artifacts, all at least a hundred years old. It felt like a sanctuary once you passed the moving Gargoyles that guarded the place. Under my Gryffindor crested robes, I relaxed in my striped pajama set. It was not yet an hour before midnight when Ginny Weasley abruptly shook me from my slumber. Along side Ginerva was Harry Potter, who looked both antsy and dreadful. When I arrived at the meeting, Ronald a few minutes late, I was automatically hit with the feeling that everyone knew something I didn't. Much of the Order had shown up that night, making his office seem a little smaller than it actually was.

Harry Potter, in all of his glory, stood towards the back with Ginny right beside him with their hands interlocked. "Hermione is brave, and it's ultimately her decision if what Professor Dumbledore has said is ridiculous or not." He shrugged, his glance lingering on my face longer than it ever did before. Ginny nodded in agreement to Harry's words, going against what her brother thought was clear as day.

The Order of the Phoenix was compiled of great, brave witches and wizards. I felt the eyes of Lupin, Tonks, and Moody on me at that particular moment. In my opinion, they were the bravest- but where intellectual power was needed, people like Molly Weasley, Professor Snape, and Professor McGonagall were prominent. So why was I, Hermione Granger, the chosen child to complete Dumbledore's task? I was a muggleborn, thrust into the world of magic six short years before. "I understand your worries, Mr. Weasley, _fully_." Dumbledore stood from his high throne and leaned forwards, toward us with his fingers splayed in front of him, supporting his leaning body. "This is not a whimsical plan, I assure all of you. It has taken deep consideration, and I've finally decided that Miss Granger is completely qualified and the best suited to do this." The mission was simply deemed 'time travel'.

"Professor, correct me if I'm wrong, but are you asking me to travel back in time?" My eyebrows knitted together. Everyone knew time-traveling was dangerous. One wrong move and the whole future could end up in a more horrible catastrophe than it was currently. Not that the world could get a whole lot worse, though; Voldemort had control of the German and Norwegian Ministries, and with Britain at war currently none of us had homes. America was littered with dead bodies, Canada's borders were officially shut off for the next two years, and Scotland was the last place on Earth safe for us.

"On behalf of the Order and the Light side, I am requesting your assistance in righting this wrong that has fallen unto the Wizardry world. You could very well be the answer to all of our problems; you have the potential to be the solution." Dumbledore's words struck a chord within me… I was smart and foolishly brave, but _this_?_ Time travel? _Was I really capable of reshaping the world as we knew it? I nodded, having been pulled in by his twinkling eyes. His half moon glasses were gone, only to be replaced by an onset of defined wrinkles.

"Why must it be Hermione? Why _must _the traveler be a girl?" Charlie Weasley questioned bluntly, his earring shining in the soft glow of the candles.

"As I have mentioned, Miss Granger is both intelligent and has proven to be worthy of honor, earning full qualification for this assignment. As for the gender part, well…" Dumbledore looked down at his desk and then back to us, "I believe everyone knows that I was a professor here at Hogwarts when Tom Riddle began his first year at twelve years old, just a tad bit over the qualifying age. But that little information made all the difference. He was always a year ahead in his thoughts, his school management, and…his affection. As a Transfiguration professor, I never made it a priority to know every student's private life, but Mr. Riddle's was always much too private for the Headmaster at the time's liking. Headmaster Dippet kept a special lookout for Tom Riddle. His study proved that few girls ever caught Riddle's attention, and they were never ventures that lasted."

I shuddered at the thought of girls swooning at Voldemort's sight. Who in their right mind could not sense pure evil from that beast- even when he was part man? "You want Hermione to seduce him then?" Ron's voice cut into the silence that, in fact, was filled with all of our unspoken thoughts. Riddle's description seemed like an average Seventh year boy, enveloped in his schoolwork and spending some time snogging- not an evil madman hell bent on ruining the world.

I winced at his vulgar words. "No, Mr. Weasley, I merely foresee that Miss Granger will better connect with the young Tom Riddle in the event that she is a female." Mrs. Weasley and Tonks nodded, as if they knew exactly what Dumbledore was saying. Ron still shook his head, muttering profanities in a whisper. "I am going to send you with a letter that you are to hand deliver to the 1940's version of myself, but only once you have received a certain trinket from Tom Riddle. I cannot elaborate on what this trinket will be and neither can you allow your true identity to be revealed to myself before such a thing happens."

Molly Weasley cleared her throat and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, "How long will sweet Hermione have?" she looked over at me with a dear smile. I noticed her rain boots still dripping, and her casual clothes extra starched. Molly was a woman that took care of her family, and all of the friends that came along with it. Harry and I were some of them- _"the best of them!"_ as she once put it. To know Molly Weasley was to know a real woman, a real mother, a real saint.

"There is no timeframe. Up until he splits his soul- that is when you must take action." He looked directly at me. "Putting you into the past, adding your name to the seventh year Class of 1944, the next meal you choose- it all affects the future, Miss Granger. One wrong move and your future will be forever muddled. Also, the letter to myself will have the necessary requirements to send you back here to your appropriate time."

"And what do you mean by _muddled_?" I questioned my fear. Could I truly erase myself from existence in some way? It was so morbidly fascinating to consider.

He sighed and sat back down whilst his hand stroked his long, grey beard thoughtfully. "Once I cast the spell on you, your body will leave to 1944 almost like apparition, just to another time. Even though we are using time travel to fix our… problem, I could _not _do the same to another problem if something goes amiss in your mission. This spell can only be cast once-"

"Because if I die or cause the death of another that I wasn't supposed to, you putting me back in time would have never happened." I filled in the blanks, my mind clearing up the fog that settled when Ron began doubting Dumbledore's plans. Dumbledore proudly smiled and nodded. "Will I have any allies? Anyone to turn to?" I asked worriedly. "Who am I to trust?"

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes indeed, Miss Granger, you are spot on as per usual. It should be no problem avoiding your grandparents, or any other relatives in that time seeing as they are both muggles. But, as I have stated before, I have full belief in you." Professor McGonagall quietly agreed, while other murmurs of approval filled the room. "As for an ally, I have prepared a certain student for your sudden appearance. Her name is Lavinia Brocklehurst, and she was by far the smartest witch of her time. Also one of the few star pupils of that time to be void of any allegiances to Tom Riddle." He swallowed throatily before looking at with grave orbs of an old blue. "She will know of your situation, but she will not be able to tell another soul; I promise, that when the time is right, and only then, Miss Brocklehurst will approach you and become your greatest ally. As far as trusting… I advise you to trust no one. Think of this as a solitary mission- no one is what they seem, and it may be startling at first."

I summoned the strength to think it over, but my thoughts automatically went somewhere else… somewhere dark. I knew all about realizing people weren't what they seemed to be.

**Three Months Before-**

"_Have you no morals?" I screeched at Ron, deflecting an onslaught of hexes. The Death Eaters were gaining in closer on us. It was Ron's bright idea to infiltrate the Death Eater post in Moscow, where I promised myself I would never go. Draco Malfoy controlled everything that went in and out of that camp; he ran it like a ship- always constant, clean, and completely under his control. I knew he was too risky to fight with, or overthrow for that matter. Like Ron, I wanted to absolutely crush Malfoy and all of his followers, to avenge our lives of misery at Hogwarts and our few first months as Auror Trainees in the War. Now, almost every member of Dumbledore's Army and The Order were fully qualified Aurors. "We can't do this!" I screeched at him, huddling behind the large Oak tree for protection. He dodged out from behind his bush and threw dozens of curses._

_The differences between Ron and I were many, mostly being our patience levels. Harry and Snape journeyed off to catch a lead on another Horcruxe, leaving Ron to think he could whatever he pleased while they were away. Dumbledore didn't quite agree with Ronald's "brilliant" plan, but since Ron was an appointed General, there wasn't much arguing when he had already convinced the others that this would work. But at the moment where he and I were backed into a small cove, the others having attacked the busy capital from different angles, I hated Ronald for having no sense when he needed it most._

_There was another major difference. I would never use an Unforgivable curse. I blocked out the rest of his mantra and left the comfort of the trees. That was the fourth time he used that curse in the last hour. How many did he want to kill with that horrible curse? We were here to capture and imprison, not murder!_

_I aimed my wand and shouted a little-known curse that caused your clothing to incinerate and cause the victim feel as if they were burning alive, also- a hallucinogen tenfold. I lifted my wand and cast it again on the same group, this time flicking my wrist a little harder for a greater effect. "Flamme Aturo!" I did the same to another cluster. This curse lasted awhile, and it eventually paralyzed the brain of its victim for a few days. Due to the lack of serious side-affects and very few fatalities, it was a legal curse. That was another difference between him and me. I took time to cast legal, effective spells rather than rambling off mindless curses that came with a life-sentence to Azkaban. I hated Ron for that. _

_"There!" I saw him point to a group of flying broomsticks that emitted golden smoke, signally the approach of Azkaban officers and the Ministries lackeys. Leaving this mess to them, we dodged the trees and undergrowth of the shadowy north part of Moscow. It was snowing heavily and the trees, including bushes and flower stems, were bare as the night._

_Of what I could still remember all of those months ago, I faintly recall Ronald taking my hand and pulling me into a warehouse-type building. Everything looked and smelled bran new. "Keep quiet-" He didn't finish his sentence before a swift paralyzing curse was placed unto him. I squealed like a bleeding pig and shot into the dark._

"_Granger, please." Draco Malfoy's voice cut into the air. I heard his footsteps near my hiding place and struggled to keep my panting silent. Easy breathing was gone. I was an unsuspecting victim when he bent down and yanked me to a standing position by my hair. _

_"Poor Weasley always had a big mouth." He shrugged nonchalantly and took me with him to a rather large room, with no windows and paper scattered everywhere. "Your little weasel boyfriend thought it smart to ravage all of my belongings first. How stupid! All he did was give my men time to prepare." Malfoy chuckled and tossed me carelessly on a seat. For good measure, he snatched the wand from my hand and ordered a nonverbal spell to lock the door. He turned his back to me and began going through paper, grabbing some and stuffing them in his expensive carry on._

"_What are you doing?" I eyed him critically. He captured me, and only took me to his office a hallway away from my petrified boyfriend, that would be waking in the next hour? It didn't make sense. "You're not going to kill me." It was more of a statement rather than a question. "You could have done that instead of petrifying Ron. You could have done a lot worse things to him than-"_

"_Are you trying to __**encourage **__me?" He sneered and stuffed a few articles from the table into his bag. "I'm collecting important things from my former office. I give those Ministry goons fifteen minutes to locate this spot and move in. All I can tell you is that Weasel has some things to do before a Death Eater finally kills him. Imagine if I had been just another Eater- I would have killed your little boyfriend, given you just enough time to slip away." He rolled his eyes at the prospect. "All a prophecy, Granger. I'm not supposed to kill you. Not this way, not this time, not __**me**__. In the higher power that believes in an end to this war, I don't believe I am suppose to murder you or that Weasley." I didn't buy his act, but I didn't question him any further. I merely allowed him to keep packing. "Count this as my paying you back for saving my life in fifth year against that nasty Centaur attack. If we cross paths again, I will only assume that it is my destiny to kill you, and so I will." He approached me and lifted me up by my hand; soft, like a gentleman's touch. I was caught in the moment and walked out into the hall. _

_He thrust my wand into my hands and kicked Ron for good measure. I was going to pull out my wand in a stance, when he flicked his wand and caused both of my arms to feel like lead, dropping my wand to the hard, linoleum floor. "Goodbye, Granger. I do hope, for your life, that we never see each other again."_

I snapped back to the present time and stood from where I sat. "I will do it, Dumbledore. I will travel back in time to halt Riddle's madness and his 'decontamination' of my kind." He nodded, almost having had expected my compliance. "I will do everything in my power to make sure Voldemort stays human as long as possible. And I will make it back here to you all." I forced a tight-lipped smile on my lips as I looked around the room and then settled on Ronald. He didn't know me anymore, and I sure as hell didn't know him. This world was quickly going to hell- I could be the solution to all of our troubles, whatever that meant.


	2. With A Lie

**1944**

I walked down the hall with books held tightly to my chest, careful to be aware of my surroundings whilst maintaining a carefree, young woman's nonchalance at her grammar school. It wasn't easy when I was a time-traveling, confused little girl with no true ally in this time. Professor Dumbledore would understand me once I passed him the letter, but I was not able to do that until I received a certain _trinket _from Tom Riddle… the monster, the lunatic, the evil git himself. How in the world was I supposed to act like I even wanted his attention, anyway? He was a horrible, vile person that so closely resembled a reptile that it freaked me out every single time I saw him up-close; it was allegedly suppose to signify his ties to me, as Dumbledore prophesized. But I wasn't much in this life.

My back story was that I was a proper Lady Granger, closely connected to the pureblooded Brocklehurst family. Surprisingly enough, they were quite prominent in this time… from what I gathered in the mere days since arriving here, Mandy Brocklehurst's great grandmother was prom-queen-meets-the-Wizarding-world. Lavinia and I hadn't been up close and personal yet, but the way the girls spoke of her during shower times and lunch was enough. Albus swore on his magic that she was the smartest witch of her age and would approach me with an offer I couldn't refuse "when the time is right, and only then, Miss Granger". I inwardly rolled my eyes at Dumbledore's mystical, cryptic messages. I had to count on the fact that she would understand, she would just _know_.

For all the luck in the Wizarding world, the traffic in the hall was a standstill- and three very large, tall wizards stopped right before me. They were walking in the opposite direction, and probably wouldn't have noticed me had Emogen Abbott's pet frog _not _jumped from its cage and caused everyone to get caught in the body traffic. "Look here, the first half-blood girl to get sorted in Slytherin." I ignored the sneer in Hyatt Hollingway's voice, though it was not easy to steadily ignore it. I knew I would gain some bad reception due to my placement in Slytherin, and I had to lie about being a half-blood. Firstly, I would have been slaughtered if they knew I was a muggleborn. Secondly, keeping up the story of being a pureblood would have been far too difficult. There was so much I did not know regarding these times and their customs, I couldn't risk this mission with that huge of a lie. Thirdly, I decided that being halfblooded would help me gain the upper hand when it came to _connecting _with Voldemort.

I wanted to rudely point out his ignorance, for I was not the first (in _A History of Hogwarts_, it clearly states the first muggleborn, half-blood, and pureblood to ever be sorted in each House) but I refused to let him get under my skin. I idly reminded myself that his bloodline would die out with him, so I didn't let it bother me. He was going to die a very lonely, old man. My eyes were everywhere but his- those three were a sort of clique around school. Riddle, Hollingway, and Malfoy were household names around these sorts. Riddle and I shared only three out of six main classes, but he was always untouchable when he walked in. It was like he was sent here from some other world and everyone around him knew it- he was like a God to them, so high above their measly being and yet so dark, that he was unattainable.

My avoidance only fueled Hollingway's anger, for in the next moment he shoved me into the couple a few feet wayside- sending my textbooks and satchel flying across the cobblestone. I looked over at him after apologizing to the two younger students, and it was the biggest mistake of my entire seventeen years. There was no way to truly explain their regal… it was otherworldly. Abraxas Malfoy stood alongside Voldemort like a proud patriarch, and he looked so much like Draco that I almost fainted with mirth. Draco and I had mended bridges before I left to this time, probably because he felt there was a huge chance I was never coming back. He also told me everything he knew about his great grandfather, which I hoped would never have to come in handy. Hyatt had a broad frame, but other than that he wasn't much to look it- and that stupid sneer he wore reminded me of a younger, evil Draco that I didn't quite prefer. They were both blonds, one more platinum than the other, while Voldemort stood between the two men looking so out of place yet right where he needed to be.

He had a head of tamed brown curls, and these sparkling dark eyes that I wanted to see more of- _damn you to hell, Hermione, _I screamed at myself. I would not allow him to draw me in, that would be a fate I was unprepared to face. I was here strictly to monitor and maintain the young boy that would soon turn maniacal- and I inferred that I was to collect Mother Riddle's necklace, before or after he turned it into a Horcruxe. According to my Headmaster's vision, a locket belonging to Voldemort would come into Dumbledore's possession and it would be his demise. Using my logic, I summed up that this locket would be the trinket Dumbledore was so interested in. And so I was here to save Dumbledore's life, because there was no hope for the Wizarding world without him. Harry would run out of luck, Ron would leave us again, the Weasleys were getting picked off one by one… I shook my head to dispel myself of those painful thoughts and balled my fists.

Hyatt was much larger than myself so physicality was out of the question, but I couldn't necessarily bring my wand out and show Riddle just what I was capable of. Some of the spells I knew didn't even exist in this time; Voldemort was so cunning and intelligent, he would notice a slipup before even I could. I shook with anger, not just due to him pushing the books out of my hand, but for the confusion and turmoil I was currently in. I was sent on a vague mission to do the nearly impossible, and to top it off I would suffer another year of insolent, insufferable bullies? At Voldemort's hand, I did _not _want to cross him. "Pick them up." Voldemort's voice sent chills down my spine, but not for the same reason they did when I was back in my time.

In my proper time, his voice was like a slithering snake- these days, he had the voice of a strong, confident man and I couldn't take that. My eyes flew to his in an instant; was he ordering me around like that? To defy him would mean certain punishment, but to succumb to his will would also mean a certain weakness revealed. I was afraid of him, but he didn't need to know that. At least not yet.

But when Hyatt Hollingway scuttled over to the fallen pieces, it suddenly dawned on me. Voldemort could _Imperio _people, without even looking at them? Perhaps he could only do that with his trusted followers- were they called Death Eaters yet? It scared me to think that he could make me do anything he wanted without even maintaining eye contact, and quite frankly I began to doubt every confidence I ever had in this mission. Hyatt returned them to my awaiting arms and even slung my book bag over my shoulder like a gentleman would. My jaw dropped unashamedly, thoroughly amazed that Hollingway would swallow his blood hunt for even a few moments. I wanted to say a small thanks in a vague manner, but the traffic began to disperse- Voldemort and his men continued their stroll, as if that hadn't just happened. I blinked a few times to bring myself back to the present and continued on my way to my last class of Wednesday, Ancient Runes.

I set my things out for the lesson in little time and started to daydream as Professor Hardeman began her boring instruction of "Rune Care & Observation" which she promised would only last two weeks. I wanted to be working hands on with these pieces and figuring out formulas, not sitting around talking about working with them. They weren't even fully aware that the first Great War was going to start right under their noses, yet we were sitting here learning about the all-great Salazar Slytherin and Rowena Ravenclaw's accomplishments. It was just too ironic for words. A petite girl with long, black hair and a small button nose turned to me with a sharp look in her eyes. "I am Penelope Parkinson." She spoke not with prejudice, but with pride and I immediately perked up at the girl sitting across from me.

I tried not to stare at her for too long, but it was difficult to see the ancestors of my former classmates. Pansy looked somewhat like her great grandmother, but Penelope was definitely more refined and poised. "Uh, hello. I'm Hermione Granger." Sure, I sounded shaken and slightly deflated compared to the perfect lady I was supposed to be portraying… but I could work on that. When would Lavinia decide the time was right and hop in? I hadn't even really seen her around school; not during mealtimes, class, teatime! It was like she didn't even exist, just a sweet myth running around the girls' mouths.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Granger. I come to understand that you were sorted into the House of Slytherin? You do understand the importance of such a placement during your Seventh and final year, do you not?" I blinked at her words, not being able to gauge where she was trying to go with that. Perhaps she was just one of those overzealous, "house unity" type gals? Hell, her great granddaughter would be known as the easy shag of Slytherin!

I nodded and gnawed lightly on my lower lip. "Yes, Miss Parkinson, I do understand. It is," I choked out the next few words, "an _honor _to be placed in Slytherin." The true Gryffindor beneath the surface roared angrily, but I suppressed it for the moment. Penelope wanted to hear me elated to be a part of Salazar Slytherin's regime, and so I would. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad to learn a few pointers from her; though I definitely needed to find the Alpha female of this House, and I had no idea who she could be. They all had this uppity feel about them, you really couldn't tell who was truly better than the other. All were rich, tied in some manner (whether closely or loosely) to Riddle or his men, and so very self-centered. The world as they knew it revolved solely around them.

"Excellent." Her toothy grin allowed a small wave of temporary relief to wash over me. Smiling was a good sign, no matter what House you belonged to. "So, you will attend the rally tonight?"

My ears perked up at her mention of a rally. Like a Death Eater one? I couldn't necessarily word it like that, but I tried my best. "A rally? I wasn't aware of any. What will it pertain to?" The words came spilling out, I was just so darn curious as to what the Slytherins thought a meeting was about.

Penelope Parkinson sent a small smirk of her own. "You are quite eager, aren't you, Miss Granger?"

I bit back a dirty insult meant for Pansy, not Penelope, so I clamped my mouth shut and tried to inconspicuously press my fist against it. Patience was key in this experience being successful, and I often prided myself in being overly-patient, but this was going to kill me. "Very eager to take part in my well-respected House's traditions, is all." I said finally, a fake smile plastered across my face. "And please, call me Hermione."

"I have a very strong feeling that you will be a great asset to the Slytherin House, Hermione." Her smirk grew larger and it made my stomach coil and twist with agony. It felt like vomit would come spewing from my mouth any second- I would puke all over her expensive things, and in front of my entire Ancient Runes class no less! The way she was speaking of me being an _asset _to them… it was sickening. "As you wished to know, the rally will revolve around House Unity. We have one every year for returning and new students. This year is very special, though." The wretched grin on her face made me sink back in my seat just an inch or two. Very special? When a Slytherin said "very special", they usually never meant it in a conventional sense.

"W-why?" I stuttered.

"Oh, don't you realize? Mr. Riddle is Head Boy this term, and he has been the chancellor of such festivities for a few years. Everyone looks up to him for guidance and fundamentals- you should as well, Hermione. Mr. Riddle has so much knowledge that he freely bestows upon us, wanting so little in return." You could see the adoration dripping from her black eyes as she spoke. When she spoke of him this way, it reminded me very much of Hitler and his devoted followers. Voldemort was said to be cunning, intelligent, charismatic, and so very manipulative. I contained a shudder as she continued to speak. "But he will be graduating this coming year, along with the rest of us seventh years- so he will be choosing a successor to pass down the gauntlet to."

If we had been in 2014 and I heard Pansy speaking this way, I would surely rush to admit her to St. Mungos for mental insanity. Passing the gauntlet? Finding a successor to give a speech? It just seemed too surreal for my current liking. "A sixth year, then?"

She shook her head slowly, as if I was being daft on purpose. "No, Hermione, why in the world would you assume that? Mr. Riddle began giving his sermon as a Fourth year- age does not measure intelligence, you must know that." Penelope looked so serious as she spoke. "We assume he will chose a young man, years beneath us."

I wrinkled my nose at the thought that perhaps a second year would be giving this almighty speech to girls and boys five years older than himself the next year. "And you agree with that? What if it's a girl, and not a boy-"

Parkinson slammed her open palm on the desk and locked eyes with me. "I will never question any of Mr. Riddle's decisions. Neither should you." I wanted to shove it in her face that I couldn't give two shits about what Riddle thought was right or wrong, but I needed her as a _frenemy _from now on. She could be an excellent outlet for information if I stayed on her good side, which wouldn't be easy if I kept opening my mouth with opinions about her precious Lord Voldemort.

We kept our eyes on one another for the duration of the period, though the intensity died down just slightly when Professor Hardeman walked by to eye our class assignment. When the bell chimed throughout to school signaling the end of class time, Penelope gathered her things quickly and flitted out of the door without a word edgewise to me.

I needed a sort of ally in her, most definitely. A part of me instinctually knew that she wasn't the Alpha- but I could bet the farm that she was best friends with the mentioned.


	3. May I?

**Tuesday Afternoon-**

I was barely able to make it on time to my last class of the day, which just so happened to be Double Potions with a classroom full of fellow Slytherins. I plopped down next to two girls closest to the front with an open seat- one sent me a sweet smile and the other scowled nastily at me.

"…adding just a pinch too much of a fig root will end with a purple haze of disaster for your project, is that clear?" Slughorn was exceptionally grumpy that day of lessons, which was very uncharacteristic of him. "The last group to complete their potion will be deducted three points each for their House. Any potions incomplete will result in a drop of mark for their first day of instruction. Time begins now." His eyes rarely left the blackboard, but when they did I noticed they fell on one student in particular. Hadn't Riddle been his most prized possession, weren't they a part of a forged alliance here at Hogwarts? It was puzzling me so deeply that I hadn't even heard one of the Longbottom sisters poked at my arm sternly, gaining my full attention once more. Contrary to their great-grand nephew, they were both very skilled at Potions and failed horribly at Herbology in every sense. It was quite a riot.

"Girl! Are you able?" Corrin, the older twin sister, shot down at me. I jumped at her brutal command and nodded stiffly. Corrin Longbottom was such a… well she wasn't a very nice woman!

"Geez, Cor, ease up a bit." Her sweeter, younger twin smiled playfully up at her sister before handing me the necessary ingredients to complete our two hour long in-class project. "Sorry about Corrin here, all work and no play makes Johnny a dull boy if you know as I mean." The Longbottoms' English way of speaking was funny at most, but their accents were stronger than Neville's ever was. "I'm Aileen, the second youngest Longbottom here at Hogwarts, and she is the eldest." Her short, stubby hand was held out for me and I shook it without a second thought. Though Corrin just stood there, still as a statue as she stared down at me. She looked odd for a Longbottom, I suddenly thought to myself. Aileen looked very much like Neville in our last year together, and I could only assume the other sibling looked somewhat alike. "Humbert, he's our younger brother by a sum of ten months, is a sixth year currently. Isn't that exciting? Another year he is able to look forward to!"

Corrin rolled her squinted brown eyes at her sister, turning away from the two of us exchanging words. What was her problem with me? Perhaps I wasn't the problem at all; maybe she just had a bad attitude? "My name's Hermione Granger-"

"Oh, I knew that! Everyone knows your name, you know." Aileen smiled. "You're the new gal at school, haven't you received _any_ special treatment because of it?"

I shook my head slowly. "Well, if you count Hollingway treating me like dirt every time he sees me, then yes." Hyatt Hollingway truly was either deeply disturbed or just born a nuisance, for he chose to make my existence a living hell around here.

"Oh, don't pay him mind!" She slung an arm around my shoulders and quirked her head at an odd angle. "Perhaps you would like to join me and my friends for dinner? They're quite the snooze at times, but I think it'd be nice for you to expand your circle of friends here at Hogwarts." I wanted to scoff at the idea of "making friends", seeing as I had perfectly great ones back in my time! I was meeting too many grandmothers and grandfathers of my friends during my time here, it was awfully weird- I couldn't shake the resemblances at times. Could I survive an entire lunch of it?

"Why would she want to meet those wretched excuses for wizards and witches? _You_ shouldn't even be associated with them, Aileen, let alone bring Granger into the mix!" Corrin's words whipped us like a leather belt.

Aileen shrugged off her sister easily as we began packing up our belongings, signaling the end of class. "Shall we?" I looked between both of the sister quickly, not wanting to hurt ones feelings or step on the other's toes. Wasn't my plan to stay under the radar? How could I possibly do that when Aileen was planning on introducing me to even more people? Corrin huffed through her nose and turned swiftly around, not before flinging her sister's books to the ground with ease. I grit my teeth against her mean girl actions, seriously wondering how Aileen could take it all with stride. "Quite the brat, isn't that one?"

"Yeah, you could say that." I let out an awkward laugh as she bent down and picked up her books before signaling me to follow her. "How do you deal with her?"

"She's my only sister, older on at that. We've shared the same room since we were tots because we're _that_ much inseparable." I allowed her to think she was showing me the way to the Great Hall from the Dungeons, even though I knew this path like the back of my hand. In the midst of her rant, I wanted to ask her how good my acting was so far… but obviously that would blow my cover faster than I could say 'Hippogriff'. "Then we got older, started attending here, and around fourth year she started to change and not for the better." Aileen looked a little saddened as she spoke, but that was the first and last time I would ever see a flicker of morbidity in her face for the duration of our friendship. The only damper in her otherwise pristine, bubbly life was the downfall of her very own sister. "A part of me truly believes it has something, or perhaps everything, to do with _him_." Even as she spoke, her eyes were not trained on me- they were far off, distant almost.

"Him?" I parroted her words.

We arrived to a table full of students that reluctantly slid down the wooden slabs to allow us room, and her mood suddenly switched. She was back to being the upbeat, happy-go-lucky girl from earlier. "Hello everyone! Wonderful spirits today, aye?" Her group of friends regarded her with almost somber expressions, as though her happiness didn't affect them whatsoever. "I want you all to formally meet Hermione Granger, she just started this semester." There were five of them, three sitting across from us and two sitting on her left, and they took turns shaking my hand politely. Well, at least they weren't as hostile as her sister!

"Nice to meet you all." I murmured softly.

"That boy with wild hair, his name's William Weasley his sister is next to him, her name is Caity Weasley." She gestured to the two redheads sitting next to one another, resembling Ginny and Ron so vividly that it almost took the breath from my lungs. I wanted to reach out and touch Ron's- _William's_ face in fondness. But surely he, as the rest of the table, would freak out and leave me all alone. And as much as it bothered me, I did need a certain amount of allies in this time period if I was going to succeed at anything. "And beside Caity is Lynnex Lovegood," He was Luna's grandfather, I knew as much, "and his _gal_ friend Ophelia Greengrass." The Greengrasses mixed with the Lovegoods? In a sense it did add up, seeing as Luna was the product of a very old line of purebloods and even once admitted that her family dabbled in the Dark Arts, experimental purposes only. But the manner in which Aileen said Ophelia's name, I could only assume there was bad blood between them. Seeing as the Longbottoms were as "pure" as the Greengrasses, I couldn't imagine why.

Ophelia had striking ocean blue eyes and a facial structure that could rival any Witch Weekly model's- why wasn't this girl at Beauxbatons? Astoria and Daphne from my time, whom I could only assume were either her granddaughters or nieces, were also very beautiful but had darker Auburn locks. She was so breath-taking next to the fair skinned Lynnex, and they were much taller than the rest of us- not to mention, she was the only Ravenclaw amongst us. "Beside me are Emogen Abbott and Jasmine Brown, coupled currently." I winced against the name Jasmine Brown- I had heard of her through stories of Lavender at night times in the Gryffindor Girls' Dormitories. Her great Aunt Jasmine was the wittiest, quickest Brown in her entire family- and also the nosiest, she had exposed scandal after scandal for The Daily Prophet's 'Wizardry Affairs' section for years in her early twenties. The two Hufflepuff teens waved shortly at me before turning back to what they were previously talking about. Emogen was a complete klutz, and that's all I needed to know of him.

Perhaps the less personal attributes I knew of them the easier it would be to use them in the future? "So," I began slowly, "none of them mined that I am a Slytherin eating at the Gryffindor table?"

"So you have heard of our rivalry already?" Caity Weasley smiled wisely, her front teeth much larger than the rest. "We trust Aileen's sense of familiarity." And with a shrug, the topic was over. I had one class with her, so obviously she was in my year, but I would have noticed if I had a lesson with a Ron-look-alike. Was he perhaps in a lower year, or what? I refused to ask, not wanting to explain why I wanted to know in the first place.

Aileen sent me a sideways smile before digging into her kidney pie, carrying idle conversation with her pals as the lunch hour drew on. It wasn't that I was miserable, they were actually quite accommodating, but it felt so wrong. It was supposed to be Neville, Ron, Ginny, Luna, Lavender, and Hanna that was sitting around me! Not these far out, weirdly alike grandparents, grandaunts and granduncles, and distant cousins. I shook my head to dispel myself of the foolish train of thoughts and focused on finishing my lunch instead.

**Wednesday Evening- **

I was so shaken up from my run-in with the pre-Voldemort that once his back was turned, I shoved my things into my carry on and ran as fast as my short stumps could take me; I was blind as I ran through dark corridors and equally creepy nooks. Was he on my tail? I did leave very abruptly when he turned to retrieve something for me, but there was no use in pretending to be cool and sophisticated around him when I was nothing of the sort! I dared not look back but honestly, where was I headed? I knew none too personal Gryffindors in order to share their common area, but neither was I keen on the idea of cozying up with any Slytherin housemates. Perhaps it was best just to head back to the dungeons and book it straight to the Girls' Dormitories? There was no way in Merlin's beard that Riddle knew how to infiltrate the millennia-old magic that kept boys out of there!

I made a split second decision and made a quick left, running me right into another human body with enough to land me right on my bum. My hand flew to my head where it made contact with the other witch in front of me, throbbing angrily. "I'm so sorry!" I called out loudly; wincing at the trickle of blood that spilled from her now split lip.

She took my help to stand up but sent me a weary look when my neck spun in different directions, as though Voldemort would suddenly appear out of thin air and suck my blood out. He was a reptile, not a vampire, right? Since when had anyone been weary of _me_? I was a war hero; I protected people for a living back in my time! I spent six long years of my late childhood and early adulthood saving lives and the Wizardry World! Everyone trusted Hermione Granger. "A little sweet for a Slytherin gal?"

"Gryffindor at heart." I shrugged casually, not comfortable about being cornered with her eyes. A part of me wanted to rip off my stupid green and black crest right in front of her and the other, more sane and responsible part, knew that it'd blow my cover and jeopardize everything I had worked so hard for.

The tall strawberry blonde before me sent over a wry smile before holding her tanned, squarish right hand out. "A fellow _honorary_ Gryffindork, then?" I shook it carefully as I eyed her Ravenclaw crest. One point for Hermione, seeing as I was already connecting on sort of level with a stranger from the forties. "Are you a seventh year?" I nodded eagerly and adjusted my heavy book bag. I didn't care that she used the Gryffindor name in a derogatory manner; she did it with kindness that I feinted off of. "So am I." The easy smile on her face made my guarded walls lax for just a bit- we didn't need drawn out stories or a poke at the gossip mill to get acquainted. Simple questions with simple answers sufficed. At least she dropped the weary look; I would never get anywhere if people automatically became weary of me or my character. "I was on a mission myself, I must admit- there was a group of slags I used to associate myself with that have been dying to coerce once more." She rolled her sharp, muddled between blue and black eyes, "Who would have thought that running down a Hogwarts hallway loaded with a knapsack and desperation was going to get me decked?" She said it in a teasing manner but it still made me blush- how careless does one have to be in order to bust another's lip by just taking a left?

Had I finally found a friend, or even an ally? What is she was the female Alpha I was searching so hard for? Even if her crest read Ravenclaw, I would go out on a limb and say that Tom Riddle was capable of using any member of any House to meet his agenda. "I'm Hermione Granger." As soon as I said it she dropped my hand. My mouth opened and closed as I thought of ways to explain myself… to whatever degree she was currently offended.

But the look she was giving me said so much more. "I believe that I've been awaiting your arrival." My mouth ran dry at her awfully cryptic message… she had been waiting for me to run into her, quite literally? Just my luck, the one new friend I make and she's some sort of loony Divination chick! "My name's Lavinia Brocklehurst."

"…so, I've come to you in your dreams?" It was all very flattering hearing her speak of me and my "amazing feats using time travel" for the last hour and a half, but the empty classroom we were now resigning in was nothing near warm and cozy. She sat me down and tried to explain it from the beginning, how different people from different time periods had been coming to her for prophesy fulfillment and the likes. But what if she was just blowing smoke up my ass? What if this was just some sort of endurance test by Dumbledore, to check on my thoroughness?

"Yes," Lavinia said in expiration, one hand working at cleaning up her wound and the other running through her shoulder length, voluminous hair, "Since sixth year. Sometimes you would come to read books with me, other times you would beg me to bring you here to my own time. And once in awhile…" Lavinia looked away from me and directed her gaze back to the dirty mirror across the room. "Hermione, there were times you would bring a guest with you." She almost looked pained as she spoke.

"Harry Potter?" I quipped eagerly. He was the most logical explanation- I wouldn't bring any other companion with me to a stranger's dream, even if I was doing this through a prolonged subconscious manner. And plus, if what she said was accurate than I would have no choice but to force Dumbledore to find a way to bring Harry to this time with me! I sorely needed a familiar.

"Who?" Her face morphed into a look of confusion and my heart dropped into my stomach, where it was seemingly devoured by acids and muscle contractions. "A current relative of Erick Potter, the sixth year?" I squeezed my eyes shut to block out the childish tears I was feeling- I had steered clear of the presence of the infamously mischievous Potter, not wanting to know his first name or what he looked like. That would be too much for me to handle. But now I knew his name- _Erick_, my best friend's grandfather; how twisted could the Fates be? I was attending classes with and would most likely have to meet this boy would father one third of The Marauders, but Harry didn't even have a picture of him. I shook my head and she understood that I could say no more. "No, your companion was one that I recognized." My ears perked up at that- was it possible that she somehow knew someone from my own time? That would be just bloody brilliant! Even if it wasn't Harry, _anyone_ was better than no one at all. "It was… for some irate reason or another, your companion was always Tom Riddle of Slytherin."

"T-Tom Riddle!" I spit his name out like a disease. Why on Earth would I ever associate myself with him? Should I have spilled the beans on the sort of lad he would turn into? If she was fairly warned of his future madman plans, she could somehow better protect herself, right? It would be inhumane to set Lavinia out into the unknown when I _knew_. It saddened me to that I knew for a fact the type of hell he was about to cause for every breathing soul, yet in fear of mucking up the entire universe, I could say one peep. They were sharing dorms, mealtimes, classrooms with a future mass murderer! And they were very oblivious.

"So you've familiarized yourself with him?" Lavinia looked almost spooked as she skirted around his name. "_He_… well, allow me to just warn you, Hermione- he isn't to be trifled with in any manner at all. He causes certain events to happen to others, and there is never even the hint of a trail leading back to him! And I- well, I have _seen_ certain things in my premonitions of the future. I am not too certain how far into the future you are from, but he causes so much bloodshed and chaos during his campaign. Though I cannot tell you anymore than that, I would hate to be the cause of a fold in the delicate weave of time, but it is a must Hermione, dear. You must _never_ anger him." I nodded in understanding, not even wasting time explaining the type of monster he would become in my teen hood.

"Has he killed anyone yet?" I questioned. The fearful look in Lavinia's eyes hardened as she bit onto her lip rather harshly.

"Yes… well, no- _yes_. I without a doubt believe he did! But as I have said before, he is too cunning to ever leave a loose end hanging. He is far too good at what he does." She shook her head solemnly, obviously not willing to say another word about that. "That is why I must pardon myself from whatever it is you came here to do. I am sorry; Miss Granger, but I cannot risk my life and the last bloodline of the Brocklehurst family like this. I know you have risky intentions for that man, or whatever it is he pretends to be on the outside. _He_ has no soul, therefore no weak spots or parcel of humanity." Her eyes grew watery at her mention of _him_- Merlin; she couldn't even bring herself to say his name a second time!

"I think it is safe to relay to you my mission, of which I was told to do when the time was exactly right." I licked my lips nervously and stood directly in front of her, not caring that we were now in one another's personal space. Dumbledore had said that she would be willing ad wanting to help me and though this was not the case, Hermione Granger did not so easily give up. "I am from a time, over seven decades into the future, where he has destroyed every last piece of our world as we knew it. A world built on more generations of Brocklehursts and Potters and Longbottoms… I attended classes and the Yule Ball with your granddaughter, we were dear friends!" Lavinia had to help me, whether out of pure compassion or my own pleadings, I couldn't do this without her. "Dumbledore, whom is Headmaster in the future, brings fighters for the Light like us together in union against _him_. Your granddaughter, Mandy, was a fighter! She had to have gotten that courage from her blood; it came from a gene pool that only Brocklehursts are capable of. Your granddaughter saved my life during one of the worst battles against Death Eaters that Hogwarts had ever seen in…" There went my mouth! I had said far too much, hadn't I?

Lavinia's eyes, which were cloudy and muddled like the shores of a monsoon, grew wide in a mixture of astonishment and fear. "I… I have a son, then? And he has a daughter that attended school with you?" I nodded sternly, checking her eyes for something like horror or absolutely shock. But she was clearly in disbelief. Mandy had explained to me that her dad was without a legitimate father, thus taking the Brocklehurst name as his very own and procreating. If I was not mistaken, she also had two younger brothers. "But- Hermione, _how_?"

"How, in what way?" I asked carefully. I refused to give out any more solid information so freely. My mind assumed she would ask what Death Eaters were, how Tom Riddle managed to stay alive for so long, or why he was attacking the school that taught him every spell and curse he knew. But she surprised me, so very deeply.

"I am barren." Lavinia whispered to me as one girl would to another in secret. No one was around us, but I understood her need to be so secretive. Being barren in a time where having kids meant everything, she could be the outcast very easily. "Though I have not made such a fact public," she smoothed out the pleats in her skirt as she fidgeted around, "my parents wish to have me married in a few years, and my husband will know not long after that." Should I have told her that Mandy's grandmother never did marry? But what if she thought that I came with a miracle for her uterus, and she ended marrying some equally barren wizard and never had the illegitimate child that Mandy's dad was? "Oh, thank you so much, Hermione! I knew you were in my dreams for one reason or another! I can owl my parents and tell them to sign the betrothal after all-" She threw her arms around me, but my head was two seconds away from splitting in half.

"But, Lavinia, please do not think that what I have told you is one hundred percent accurate. Just telling you a piece of your future might have ruined it." I shook my head in sorrow and the happiness instantly died from her face. "I am _so_ sorry for that."

Lavinia shook her head adamantly. "No! No, we can fix this… do you know much of my life in my later years? Perhaps if I take ever step that I did in my son's time, all will be well." Even to my ears she sounded desperate.

"It doesn't work that way… I lived in a generation decades away from your own! I don't know enough of your decisions, you died just before Mandy started school-" I slapped my forehead in frustration when Lavinia let out a short gasp. Great, now she knew she died at eighty! How stupid could I be? No one should ever know the time of their death! "See, I've said even more than I should have! _Merlin_." I let out a dry sob and buried my face into my hand in anger. This was going so far downhill; it was like an uncontrollable train wreck heading right into a busy city. She knew way too much! Who knew what effect this had in the future, right as we were speaking! Did Mandy even exist anymore? Did her father? Was another magical child deleted from existence by Lavinia's new decision to actually marry and try to have a child inside wedlock? Was she still barren? Had I entirely fucked up the delicate weave of time? "I've ruined everything." I wailed softly, not expecting her to care for me now that she had her fortune told by a confused seventeen year old time traveler.

But just like her granddaughter, she was so caring and selfless to a fault. Lavinia's hands pried my own away from my face, and I instantly wanted to be sucked in by a giant black hole. The resolved look on her face was a cross between sadness and self-proclaimed duty. She knew what I had to do now, but I wasn't even sure I was mentally capable. "Go on, do it already." Lavinia gestured to the wooden piece of heaven sticking out from my skirt pocket. I shook my head softly but she grasped my wrist tightly in her own. "Hermione, it _must_ be undone! For the better of my own future and yours, it's what you must do."

"But… you looked so happy when the weight of your infertile state was lifted! I can't take that away from you." I wasn't a self-deserving monster, I saw the way she became giddy with excitement when she heard that life was capable within her. There was no way I could cast an _Obliviate _on her, could I? How could I look at her ever the same?

Lavinia smiled serenely then, only slighting hacking away at my awful mood. "The simple fact that I do indeed produce an heir in the future is enough for me, Hermione. Now cast the spell before I somehow chicken out." She finally let go of my wrist and I took my rosewood wand in my right hand with feigned assertiveness. By O_bliviating_ her, I was stealing away a piece of true happiness, this conversation would have never happened in her mind, and Mandy had another chance at existing once more. I took a deep breath and almost uttered the words when her rather large hand stood up to stop me. "Wait! Before I forget everything that just occurred… what, what does she look like?"

I pursed my lips, but there was no way I would ever stop her from asking questions. If I were in her position, I would have never offered to be _Obliviated_ even if it was a necessary sacrifice for the greater good. There was no harm in answering her; she was going to forget this in a minute anyway. "She was very tall- a perfectly friendly brunette Ravenclaw with smarts and looks to match. Mandy was my greatest ally through everything, and when I return to my own time, I will tell her how truly magnificent her grandmother was."

Lavinia grabbed hold of my hand in desperation, obviously fighting off her inner demons as she took a calming breath and looked up again. "An easier way to get through to me would be to tell me two very short sentences, so blunders like this won't have the chance of happening again." I nodded slowly and waited for her to compose herself. We were both bumbling, crying messes at this point- nothing could make me feel worse or her feel more lifted and then sorely let down. "Say, 'Lavinia Mandy Brocklehurst, I am sent here from the future to complete a task that calls for your unconditionally, unwavering, complete assistance." I smiled at her blunt approach to gauging herself. I was not sure the two sentences that could be said to me to make my full compliance show itself. The type of person I was made it so that paragraphs were needed instead. "The second thing… because I know that I'll beg of you to tell me anything about my future, say 'Your dream comes true,' That is all you must say."

"I will send your memories back to when you first warn me about Voldemort, and you will remember nothing of our conversation after it." I closed my eyes and attempted to cast the most powerful wordless magic I had ever done before- hearing the word out loud would have destroyed any intention I had at all. It had to be wordless magic.

"Hermione? Are you feeling alright? Why are you crying so suddenly?" I opened my eyes and she was back across the room, right in front of the mirror. Had my spell worked that well? I actually… took us back in time? Sure, it was only three minutes or so- but it was perhaps the most vital three minutes of my life.

I wiped the streaming tears and nodded brusquely. "Yes, I was just distracted. Would you remind repeating yourself?"

Lavinia looked at me oddly again and took a step forward. "As I was saying- he hasn't a soul at all, therefore any weak spots or parcel of humanity within him is bare. So I must apologize once more, Miss Granger, but I cannot help you."

"Lavinia Mandy Brocklehurst, I am sent here from the future to complete a task that calls for your unconditionally unwavering and complete assistance." I gauged her eyes as they searched my face for any tale-tale signs of suspect or treachery. What was so special about that choice of words? Anyone could have said them- did Lavinia perhaps set me up to fail without my knowledge?

"How could you have possibly known?" Her beautifully messy eyes grew sharp as she drew near, blatantly staring at my face now. It was as if I were some E.T creature from another planet or something. "You said those exact words in my dream the other night. Given you look and sound a little different in person, but I suppose that is the fine print of subconscious premonition." Her words were clinical, but not broken- the fact that I knew she still thought she was infertile hung in the back of my mind. If only there was a way to tell her she would have son, but not mess everything up I would in a heartbeat. "Alright, I'll help you then," She said at last, causing a flood of moisture to return to my eyes, "under one condition, of course." Lavinia looked hardened almost, speaking over at me without a hint of the closeness we shared just moments ago. We were back to being de-sensitized strangers, two people who were necessary to come together in order to meet an end goal. "Tell me something of my future."

I swallowed nervously. My emotions raged against all reason and told me to lay everything out for her, because perhaps she was now in the right state of mind to consume it all. But rationale won out and I lifted my head in resolve. "Your dream comes true."

Lavinia was going to be my greatest ally.


	4. I Will Be Beside You

Lavinia walked near me, not as close as Aileen did, but close enough to be within earshot of me. She was a fairly popular girl with pretty, strawberry blonde locks and long legs- though she shed the attention with bravado; her fellow Ravenclaw housemates were very keen on her. Walking from class to class was a slightly heinous task when younger years and boys of any age were constantly approaching her. "What class do you have first?"

I blinked a few times to bring my head back down to Earth. "Wednesdays and Fridays I have Charms and DADA before lunch and Ancient Runes an hour before dinner. Tuesdays and Thursdays are Transfiguration and Herbology before lunch and Double Potions after." She nodded silently, her books pressed stiffly to her as she considered all of the different factors that weighed into my situation.

"And on Mondays?" There wasn't anything too friendly about our interactions, so I was sorely out of luck if I expected her to give me a hug or sweet smile. She was all business, no matter what the conversation.

"Only two elective courses, Arithmancy and History of Magic. I share but three courses with him, which is a bit disheartening." I admitted lowly, silently cursing my unbalanced attitude when taking placement tests during the few days that I arrived as a "transfer". Did I score too high or too low? Dumbledore had warned me that Tom Riddle was an excellent student, but it would seem that I had underestimated just how intelligent the boy was. "Double Potions, Advanced Ancient Runes, and DADA." Lavinia nodded again, signaling the hallway towards our first class together- I wasn't sure if it was alright to tell her that I had attended this school just as long as she had, so I allowed her to believe that every twist and turn in this school was absurdly foreign to me.

She shrugged after a minute or so. "At least you are able to see him every day besides Mondays, which is beneficial in a way. Gives you a day each week to further plan and perfect your preferred approach- and it does help that I have the three classes with you that are void of him completely." Her almond-shaped eyes caught my fleeting ones but paid very little attention. "If what you said is accurate, our families are supposedly very near and dear to one another; it is time to act on that, at least before winter break arrives." Lavinia shifted her books to other hand as we walked into the Transfiguration classroom, this being the very first time I would see younger Dumbledore up close. I avoided his eye each and every meal leading up to this- for it being my first official week of school here in this new world, it sure was coming back to me now. "Since you missed your first lesson with Professor Dumbledore on Tuesday, I'll let you borrow my notes and I'll let it be known to my friends in Ravenclaw." I wrinkled my nose at the thought- yeah, I hated that I had to miss my very first day of lessons on Tuesday, but that didn't mean I wanted to borrow another's notes or let people know about it.

"Are you sure that is best? Dum- I mean, my mission leader said it would be best if I came off as studious as possible. Would Riddle be thrown off by the fact that I had to use someone else's hard work during my first week here?" I hoped she didn't catch onto the real reason why I wanted to decline her offer. It was stupid pride, but not something I could let go of too easy. Lavinia shook her head swiftly and gestured to a desk in the second row for us, which I quietly agreed to.

"No, we need to come off friendlier with one another as soon as possible. Don't worry about what people will say about your intelligence- you obviously scored high on the placement tests to land Double Potions, Advanced Ancient Runes, and high-level electives. If needed, I'll let my friends know that you have the top marks in our classes' midway through the semester- even if it's not true." Her last comment made my cheeks burn in rage. She thought I was some sort of dint, did she not? Well, I would show her! And exactly how long did she expect me to stay? I was planning on making a quiet withdrawal by Halloween, because I didn't adhere to the fantasy that I would be needed anytime longer than half of a semester. "Why the sour face? Didn't I say "friendly"?" Her taught facial expression made me force a small smile of my own out, but I could see how the lack of cooperation was frustrating her.

"I'm just… well; I don't actually plan on staying the entire semester. I assumed this task would be quick and less complex-" She cut me off mid-sentence.

"Less complex?" Lavinia hissed loudly and brought her mouth closer to my ear in order not to be so easily overheard. "This is a very dangerous man, the very same one that wrecks havoc in your world and has the capability of murdering every single body in this room. And you just want to go right up to the bugger and curse him to hell? It's not that easy, Hermione. This is…" she fought for the right word as Dumbledore took center stage before our desks, "bloody complicated."

"Good morning, young witches and wizards! How are we feeling this cheery Thursday morning?" The jolly tone of his voice hadn't seemed to die out in even his old age; it was like listening to the old man from my day and age. I lost track of what my partner was saying when he spoke- it was slightly mesmerizing and slightly frightening. Had Dumbledore done something to live forever? It would seem so, but it was known Wizards, specially the ones gifted by Merlin with knowledge and power, lived far past one hundred years of age. We grumbled back a less-than-eager response, causing a tiny smile to erupt from his face. "Yes, yes, children- I share the raging excitement as well." Gone were his half moon spectacles and excessive facial wrinkles- he was younger man, not quite in his forties, with a bounce of youth in his step as he gendered about the room after instructing us to turn to a certain page in our textbook. Lavinia and I got to our work as soon as we were told to do so, and I was nearly finished with my foot of parchment required when his presence appeared before our joint desks. "Having any trouble at all, Miss Brocklehurst? And you, Miss Granger?" Lavinia shook her head with a pleasant smile and nudged me in a quiet gesture with her sharp elbow.

How had he known my name? I wasn't in his courses for the last six years as many of my peers were, I was technically a bran new student recently plucked from private tutors. Having him so close and wanting an answer was nerve-wracking to say the least. "Uh," I finally spat out, "no. It's quite easy." I wasn't lying- the _Flerticus Andro_ was perhaps the simplest process of turning flowers into insects, taught to my friends and me during fourth year. It was during one of the trials when Professor Dumbledore thought to school me on the fastest way to turn inanimate plant life into animate creatures, a seemingly innocent trade to be passed down by a former Transfiguration teacher… but it actually turned out to save Harry's life later that afternoon.

"Is it, my dear?" The soft challenge in both his eyes and voice calmed but bothered me- this wasn't the way I suppose to get his attention, was it? I was a Slytherin after all, and he was head of the Gryffindor House in this time. This was not as it was back in my time- he wasn't calling on his favorite Gryffindor Princess to answer a question correctly or prove my worth. He was challenging my intellect, hoping to create a chink in the armor. "Would it bother your work if I perhaps asked to see you cast such a spell?" Dumbledore had a rather blank look on his face, which gave absolutely nothing away. Was he doing this as some sort of test? Did he know I wasn't from here? Was this plainly hazing for being a sneaky Slytherin? My stomached turned at the thought that I was badly messing up the plain instructions he had given men back in 2014- he and I were not suppose to interact until Riddle gave me a certain token or trinket!

"Um, sure." I supplied at last. He conjured up a tiny plant and set atop my desk with a pointed look. There was no doubt in my mind that I could do this spell, so without even a glance at my textbook I pulled my wand out of my robes, flicked my wrist twice to the left, and smiled appreciatively when the single green bud turned into a colony of ants dancing along my desk. I hadn't noticed the entire classroom had quieted to see our interaction, nor did I acknowledge the brash look on my partner's face at my work. I didn't care! All that I wanted to do was show my Transfiguration teacher that I was beyond capable when it came to spells and any sort of wand work, this being the least of my worries.

"You flicked your wrist twice to the left, Miss Granger, when the textbook instructs you to only do it once and forward. Why is that?" My mouth ran dry at his grueling drill. I looked up at him slowly, as if just seeing him for the very first time, but the glint in his eyes told me something different. He knew me, even if he couldn't put a finger on me, because that was the very way he taught me to do this spell.

I couldn't very well say '_well, Dumbledore, you were the one that contradicted the generic way to do Flerticus Andro and made it a point to say that you fought to have the spell edited in the text books_', so I went for the next best thing. "I was taught this particular spell by a very famous, very sharp wizard some years back. He said that the inventor, Flertum Langlehadum, of Flerticus Andro knew not the massiveness that such a spell was capable of- pointing to the left meant a bigger amount of insects whilst pointing to the right only spewed out one or two." A short smile started on his lips and only grew larger the more facts I spurted out. "He also mentioned that this was the folly of the right-handed regime." Why did I have to say that? Merlin, I was one stupid girl!

A light bulb seemed to click on his head, for in the next moment he sent the army of ants into nothingness and turned away from me. My proud smile died down to a disappointed frown at my luck- why was I keen on blabbing all of my secrets away? Dumbledore must have thought to alter this certain spell by this time, why else had he turned so stale after I finished talking? He nodded in farewell to me as I departed with Lavinia on my tail, huffing angrily all the way down the moving staircases towards Herbology. "Truly, Hermione! That was the very worst show of restraint I have ever witnessed in a self-proclaimed 'brilliant' witch!" The tiny blue veins were popping out from her pale forehead, looking very unhealthy and dangerous. She was bound to implode any minute!

"Why?" I asked, a cross look coming over her at my self-assured tone. "You and I both agreed that I needed to assert my level of intellect, and I did it while sitting beside you like a good friend would!"

Lavinia slapped her forehead in frustration as we stepped off the third floor staircase and made our way down the hall. "Asserting your intelligence and being a right git showing off is two different things! You're risking coming off as insufferable and cocky!" I scoffed at her iteration of things. Okay, so I showed off just a bit. But could she really blame me? If Dumbledore had asked the very same of her, she would have done it without a thought! "And what was all that talk about a "very sharp wizard" and his oh-so-wise words? Were you quoting something Professor Dumbledore will say in the future?" Her eyes seemed to catch fire when she said this. I felt absolutely cornered as we stood in the middle of a now empty hallway, both of our chests rising and falling with the frustration and amount of pressure we were under. How much restraint did she expect me to have? I knew things that only the future could supply me with, so when I was asked a question I answered it! What was so wrong with that? "So you attended Hogwarts then." Lavinia grit her teeth as she pointed an accusatory finger at me. "You intentionally mislead me to believe that you knew nothing of this school or its traditions… bloody Merlin, you allowed me to think that you were a foreign girl with no knowledge of this part of the world as well!"

I hissed at her to pipe down, for even if we were alone the walls had a way of listening in. "Hush, Lavinia! You are going to get us caught." I sent a pointed look to her and pulled her by her shirt sleeve to a small alcove. "Okay, _yes_, I know Dumbledore from my time." She let out a frustrated sound but I held a finger up in patience. "But it isn't safe to tell you things of the future, they are capable of hurting you and others around us if they leave my lips." I begged her to see things from my perspective with just a look. "And if anyone finds out I know some of His greatest secrets, they will kill me."

Lavinia's face fell as she mulled over my words. "_They_, as in more than one? He has fans of some sort? Here in Hogwarts or out there?" I took a deep breath, gnawing at my upper lip in frustration. What exactly was good to tell her and what wasn't? I definitely knew anything regarding her future or my interactions with her future generations was out of the question, but what about everything else? "Hermione, if you want me to trust you, you'll have to do the same in return. I need to know everything you know about him, and perhaps I will entrust some secrets of my own." Her offer was too golden to refuse, but my thoughts were shaky. I needed time and space to really mull over everything, and it wasn't going to be done in this dank hallway on the third floor. Perhaps if I made a list of facts to tell her and only spoke them out for her ears, things that were safe and so-so generic in nature, nothing too concerning or location-specific, it would be okay? I needed to make sure she never tried to interfere with the things he would do or the interactions he would have. It was my job, because if any time folds were messed with, it needed to be done to _me_. When I tried explaining my reasoning, she only regarded me with a hard set look and grim frown. "No, Hermione, you came to _me_ for a reason. Professor Dumbledore entrusted you in my hands, and I refuse to let him down. Make a decision- do you want my help or not? I refuse to try and work with you if you cannot abide by my guidelines or hear me out when I am only trying to help you."

There was this no-nonsense part of her that I highly respected; it was actually very comforting, for it would seem that she and I was one person. Without a second thought I nodded my consent and we made our way to our next class, which we were tardy for and awarded two Saturday morning detentions for. After a less than thrilling two hour span of soil inspecting, I made my way to lunch with Lavinia right beside me. "I am going to introduce you to my two closest friends' today- they are higher on the social bar than the Longbottom girl you associated with, but not above me. Have you rehearsed our story?" She was so calm when she spoke, but even I could feel the waves of nervousness rolling off of her. We could fake it in front of teachers and strangers; though it wasn't the same with her friends… they knew her better than anyone else. "And who are you to first turn to?" She grilled me all through Herbology, making me memorize odd facts about her life and even made some up about my own, and set one of her three closest friends up for failure.

"The brunette, Verlaine Pucey." I recognized the name Pucey from Adrian of Slytherin in my own time, but I didn't let that fact fall from my lips. She didn't need to know that Verlaine had future successors. "Because she likes to think that she knows everyone from distant places, which will elude your other pals into believing my origin." She sent me a small smile, obviously satisfied with my work. Were her friends warm and inviting like Aileen's? Or were they brash and condescending like Corrine? My palms grew sweatier the closer we got to Lavinia's designated spot at the Ravenclaw table, a far cry from the crowded, fight-for-your-seat creed at the Gryffindor table.

"Girls, meet my old friend Hermione- she just transferred here from private tutors." I gauged the intense, open stares of each girl as I took my seat next to Lavinia in a scurry. They weren't the toughest girls I had ever seen, they actually looked rather timid and reserved, but the sharp looks on their faces told me otherwise. I recognized only one of them as Ophelia Greengrass, but she barely spared me a second look before continuing to read her small handbook. I swallowed soundly as I pulled out a plate and a full course meal arrived before me- couldn't Hogwarts' intuition realize that I lost all appetite in front of these people? "Well go on, introduce yourself." She goaded.

I sent her a shaky smile before directly turning my eyes to the short, stubby brunette right across from me. "I'm Hermione Granger, pleasure to meet you." What else was I supposed to say? Surely Lavinia was going to give an opening statement that would help my life story flow right into conversation. But as I looked over at her, she only shone back with a bright smile. "Well, uh, my father works for a hospital in the United States… where my mother is from." I stuttered out at last.

"The states?" The Brunette asked with mild curiosity. "Did your mother attend Salem's Institute of Witches, then?" I nodded quickly, only hoping to appease whatever short-lived inquiry she had. "Then how did your mum and dad meet if she lived all the way out there? Why do you sound so English? And why not attend Salem, seeing as your mother is an alumni and your father works in _that_ country?" Verlaine sputtered out more questions than I could possibly keep up with. Lavinia had covered all bases when it came to the things that her friends would ask of me, but I wasn't some machine or text book contrary to popular belief! Nerves got the best of me and I fell short for words. "Oh, your _dad_ must have attended Hogwarts! Yes, I believe I have heard of the name Granger, if not from society then a textbook somewhere." Her shrug of nonchalance meant more to me than my next breath. _You're safe for now_, I breathed a sigh of relief.

Lavinia discreetly sent an eye roll in my direction before piling her tiny plate with bread rolls and sauces. "No, actually Hermione's father attended Durmstrang Institute." Even Ophelia looked up from her reading when Lavinia said such a thing. I warned Lavinia that making a fib about Durmstrang was perhaps not a very smart thing to do, but she was adamant that I needed such a qualification. She was hell-bent on giving me a higher standing in their social ladder, and she was afraid that people would start digging up the name Granger and find no relatives whatsoever attached to Hogwarts or even Scotland. And seeing as my real family lineage were all muggles living in Muggle London, I didn't want to choose a lie that was too close to the truth. Running into my grandparents while in this time would have serious consequences, and neither did I want any of these untrustworthy witches and wizards to either. "Her parents met through a pen pal program between the two schools- and well, the rest of that story is better told by them in particular. And we both know how they _love_ to recall their little fairytale." She elbowed me suggestively, playing out her lie with very little room for doubt.

Verlaine scrunched her nose in disdain. "You two look like quite the pals, aye?" She turned to Ophelia for support, but only received silence. Did Ophelia even speak? I shared almost every class with a mix of Ravenclaw and Slytherin, putting both Lavinia and Ophelia and I in the same room at the same time quite often… yet I hadn't heard a peep from her lips in the last two days that I had known her. "How come we've never heard of her before, if you're such great gal friends?" It was said more out of spite at being outcast by Lavinia rather than doubt in my character. "I can see why you've come, though; Hogwarts is far better than any school the States could have come up with." She said 'the States' with equal disdain, though I hadn't a clue why. Or at least, before her next statement. "My father, whom is ninety percent Polish, says that the USA is full of Yankees and bottom-feeders- I hear that there aren't even any more pureblood families anymore. Just half-bloods mixing with half-bloods and calling it "pure"." Verlaine's facial features were so twisted, so wrought that I couldn't even imagine a mechanic being able to undo it.

"You're being quite fresh today, Verlaine. Hermione's mom is half-blooded." Lavinia spoke like a bullwhip against bare flesh. "As well as her father."

Verlaine looked at me differently, not with hate but with sour reluctance. Had my image fallen in her eyes? "Lavi, I didn't mean it in _that_ way. _You_ know that my father works with the Ministry to control hate groups and such from filtering in educational settings!" I frowned at her words, which only bore against her more and more as time went on. How could her family say such racial things but actually be involved in anti-racial acts of the Ministry? Corruption was like disease, in this time as well as my own. "I am actually a pioneer, along with the entire name of Pucey, which works towards a better, less prejudicial future for you and every other half-blood out there." I pressed my lips together in a tight line to stop the rude words of dislike from spewing out of my mouth. What a rotten little tart, talking to me like I was nothing more than a lost cause or homeless puppy.

"Splendid news- will I also be let off my leash and fed three meals a day?" I bit out sarcastically. My brash words emitted a short laugh from Ophelia, letting me know that she in fact did have vocal chords that worked properly. Lavi also chimed in with a low chortle, her face somewhere between frustrated and joyous. "I have no shame that my parents are both half-blooded, which makes me just the same- actually, I'm quite proud of their accomplishments! They are prominent where they live, which is the world renowned Wizardry New York, and are both, accomplished wizard and witch. My father is a Magical Misfire Healer and my mother is the lead Mediwitch of the Intuitive Infantile Birthing Institute at New York's Magical Commune Hospital currently." I drew my nose towards the ceiling, trying my hardest to outdo the old Draco Malfoy stint I had witnessed a million times. Bragging wasn't my strong point, and these facts weren't necessarily true, but Lavi and I had agreed on these sets of details. In reality, my parents owned a small, clean dentist office with a mortgage the size of the Malfoy's Gringott's account.

"No. no," Verlaine corrected her self very quickly; "I meant no offense! I am _absolutely_ certain I know of the Grangers now, yes- I _have_ heard of your family." She sent me a sideways smile as she turned to Lavinia. "Lavi, you really should have mentioned Hermione more often. She is truly… a swell girl." Whether or not Verlaine ever really meant the words that came out of her mouth did not matter to me. Now that she asserted her recognition of me, she wouldn't ever be able to take it back lest she come off as a second-guessing coddler. Everyone that she spoke to me regarding me would be a positive; the more she spread my name and story, the likelier I would be in completing my mission with all necessary allies and connections.

"None taken." I said with a small shrug of shoulders and twists of lips. Slughorn canceled Double Potions that evening, and even though I was equipped with the knowledge that he was far-out creature, "cancel" was not in his vocabulary. Paranoia, hiding out, being wacky, creating specialized clubs that outcaste fellows, and focusing on just star pupils was his forte… canceling his favorite period of the day (because Riddle was apart of the roll call) was not.

**Friday- **

The day started out simple with a rushed breakfast with Lavinia's crew and a rather boring first period in Charms, but then I was released back into the wild with a classroom full of almost all Slytherin during second period. DADA was a very fun class in the old days, what with new professors every semester and friends like Harry and Ron to battle with. But these were strangers, and I had no friends here. No Weasley's, Longbottom's, Potter's, Brocklehurst's… it was my new House and few random Gryffindors spread out thinly amongst the seated classroom. The air was tense enough to spell out the letters of rivalry; what would the snakes I bunked with think if I pulled out my wand and began cursing every last one of them? Would the Gryffindors come to my aid? I pushed all thought aside when our professor walked in. He had a sort of girly step as he pranced about the confines of his desk area and the front seats, as though happiness and butterflies clouded his vision. "Good afternoon students, or as they say it in my country, _buenas tardes alumno_. My name is Maestro Villamesquez, but you can call me Maestro for short. It means "Professor" where I'm from. Can anyone guess my origin by the style of language I use?"

My hand shot up in the air before I could stop it. He spoke absolutely wonderful English for a man with such good bilingual skills, but I was very intuitive about languages and their origin. Books, they taught me everything from culture to countries to impractical trivia knowledge. His toothy, crooked smile grew so large that it almost reached his slicked back, raven hair. "Spain. Perhaps the southern most area… Granada?" He clapped his hands happily and walked towards my desk, his silken robes making a tiny sound as he trolloped to me.

"Very good, _senhorita_! _Dies_ (ten) points to your House!" He was almost too cheery for my liking as he slapped a small, brown hand against my worn desk. "That is how things work around here, _si_?" His charismatic smile wooed the girl sitting next to me; I was sure she was going to faint from excitement when he stepped away, both hands clasped behind his back as he studied the rest of the classroom. "I believe in incentive, you see; do good things and good things come to you. But do bad things and well… as _mi abuela_ used to say, "Grandson, all intentionally evil deeds never go unheard of after they are done, they are the only things that can truly ever hurt you'. What she said was true- but not all people believe such a thing." He shrugged easily and stood to face the entire class as he spoke. "I am almost forty-five years old and every single misdeed I have ever done has in fact come back to bite me right on my ass." The class erupted in giggles as he said this, but he was all smiles as he tried to shush our outrageous laughter. Never had I had such a funny, outright sunshiny professor in all of my life. "Mi papa was a fierce Chief of Spain's domesticated Auror division, and he saw every kind of wrongdoing that both Muggles and Wizards alike are capable of." Maestro had complete and utter control of the room- I doubted anyone even blinked when he was speaking. "So I knew my destiny was to become a maestro and teach every child that I could reach- I know of the pure evil out there in this world, and I intend on learning all of you on the ways to protect yourselves and those around you from it."

He called for questions at the end of his speech and only one solitary hand shot up. "What if there is evil in this very room? What will you do about that?" Caity Weasley, who I recognized from one of my very first mealtimes, spoke up. Her ears turned just as red as Ron's did when speaking in front of a crowd of people, and even her braided red hair couldn't hide that.

"Excellent question-" Maestro began but was cut off by Hollingway's doomsday tone.

"So what?" Hyatt said rather loudly. "You're scared shiteless not of what's out there, but what's in here, aren't you? Perhaps your time is coming much sooner than you believe, Weasley." If I thought Verlaine's early disdain was awful, I had another thing coming with him.

"Are you _threatening_ Caity?" Her partner, a distant relative of the Finnegan's, spoke up beside her.

Hollingway stood up straight in his chair, glaring over at the boy. "And if I am? What- going to use that good ol' Gryffindork bravery and wrestle me, are you?"

"Why wrestle when we can send a lovable bat bogey hex?" Jasmine Brown shot back instantaneously. I looked around the room, noticing in an odd manner how the evil madman of the hour was currently missing. An inane part of me wanted to see Riddle in action, maybe just once, so that I could figure his responses for myself. Was he jumpy and rowdy like Ron, brief and outright like Harry, sneaky and sly like Draco, or shaky and determined like myself? We were four of the greatest duelers at Hogwarts in my time, all belonging to The Dueler's Club at one point or another.

"_Try_ us, Brown." The tall, slender boy in front of me seethed at Lavender's famous aunt. His voice was solid and domineering; as if he knew she owned a room without having to gain consent. He was obviously Slytherin, and had the unmistakable Malfoy as his seat partner. All I had to was prove myself to him in a big way, seeing as there was no way in hell I would ever be able to prove my worth to the likes of Abraxas or Hyatt. What could I do in such a short amount of time? Asking Caity and Jasmine to back down would make me look timid and foolish, as well as it would be in vain if they were anything like their future nieces. But neither could I send a curse of my own! Aileen would never forgive me for battling her friends, and I would never be asked to sit with them ever again. Not that I had too much loyalty to them, but I didn't want to start my time here on bad terms.

I grasped onto my wand tightly, not willing to be caught off guard. "Enough of this nonsense!" Maestro stood in the aisle that separated Gryffindor from Slytherin, his hands stretched out on either side of him. "If any student is feeling a healthy amount of competition towards another, you are welcome to sign up for my weekly Dueler's Club meetings held every Tuesday. Starting next week, I expect to see at least some of you hormonally-charged teens, _si_?" No one laughed this time; we were too busy sizing each other up and considering all of our options. Even if I did belong to Gryffindors in my heart of hearts, they didn't see it that way- not only would I be out rightly attacked by them, but I would also be ousted by my new house. I would have to protect myself when and if such a thing occurred. "Since it was Slytherin that threw the first rhetorical blow, I am taking back the ten points I formerly awarded." My entire House, including myself, groaned at the loss of much-needed points. Slytherin was filled with disrespectful assholes and rule-breakers alike, we needed all the points we could get! Nonetheless we moved on from the little scene and worked through a handout dutifully, trying to get all of our worksheets in before Gryffindor did for the promised 5 points. We, of course, lost.

When Maestro excused the class, I couldn't seem to hold it in any longer. "Excellent job, Hollingway." I spat out angrily, not knowing where my sudden hate was sprouting from. He turned around, along with Malfoy and the random boy between them, to pin his maniacal eyes on me. Back in third or fourth year those eyes might have scared me brainless, but he didn't know I had stared the likes of Bellatrix Lestrange and even a dementor in the face. I could see him more clearly now- he had long, straight brown hair drawn back in a neat, low pony tail and exceptionally clear blue eyes. If not for the gruesome scar that went eyebrow-to-chin over one half of his face, I might have outright called him Adonis.

"What did you say, Halfblood?" I almost flinched at the tone Hyatt was using. He said it as though he were using 'bitch' or 'mudblood', not some average category of wizard kind like halfblood. Now that I thought about it, that word wasn't offensive at all in my time. So why was it starting to sting so much? Who knew being a halfblood was as bad as being a mudblood in these days? If only they knew what their leader was… I almost reveled in the thought that I was going to crush all of his dreams of blood supremacy in a matter of months.

"I am as full-blooded magic as you are!" My cover story was that both of my parents were halfblooded, so that made me some sort of "full-blood" if not pureblooded? "And at least I know how to keep my mouth shut and not cost us precious points." I tossed it in his face.

He started spluttering obscenities at me, stopping only when Malfoy's pale hand gripped his tiny shoulders with authority. I wondered who held more rank between the two. And who was this boy amidst them? He had pensive eyes that stared right through me, not menacingly, but too closely for my liking. "Granger?" The voice was unrecognizable, but it was followed with a small hand on my crossed arms. I followed the arm up to the owner of the body and connected gazes with Ophelia Greengrass, the woman of very little words. "You aren't being mean to her, are you?" Ophelia looked at Hyatt directly, not even sparing Malfoy a courtesy look. "She is a friend of mine, Hyatt, I expect you to in the least respect her." It was like I had stepped into a parallel universe.

Ophelia was the lion in sheep's clothing all along.


	5. Turn Of Tides

**A/N: Don't forget to look up "Miss Nae Malfoy" on Facebook and 'like' it! Also, I loveeeeeee your reviews.**

Though I was a woman of the future with satisfying NEWT scores, I still found it an absolute need to have excellent marks in this time as well- what sort character would I be providing myself with if I slacked off in this time frame? I needed to stay sharp and focused around Lord Voldemort and his minions if I wanted even the slightest chance at cracking the code to my mission. What was my mission anyway? Dumbledore had been so elusive and cryptic about the premise and foundation of my meaning and direction. Kill him, don't kill, show him feelings, don't allow him to feel, let him live, don't let him live, change the future, don't change the future… I felt so turned around! Perhaps this was meant for Harry or some other more qualifying Auror out there?

I was merely sixteen, not even the legal age yet! Perhaps I was too young and naïve for such a heavy responsibility? Perhaps Dumbledore was foolish to believe in my powers of brains and optimism? He admitted that those two qualities of mine separated me from the rest of the Order and stood out to him as qualifying traits for this particular assignment.

But did that mean that I had the guts to follow through with a plan? That is, once I formulated one. For now, I was content studying hard and waiting for Lavinia Brocklehurst to stumble upon me- my tactic could work for the new few weeks, up until All Hallows Eve. This gave me time to feel out all of Voldemort's followers, habits, and mannerisms. After that, I seriously needed to start making moves against the Dark Lord. He would start becoming a gruesome madman in no time at all, though I wasn't necessarily sure of _when_.

So I dove back into my Ancient Runes textbook without another thought, finally finding a new tranquil space in the back of the library. It was odd that in this time period, the library seemed larger yet less spacious. I almost wondered whether that was just a part of my time travel backwards, because moments of befuddled reckoning where happening at different times of the week for me. The Potions Dungeons seemed farther from the Seventh Floor, the Room of Requirement was not where it had been when I was in 2014 and perhaps didn't exist yet, and the Great Hall seemed almost… _grander_ than ever before.

Was it all in my mind? The time difference between 1944 and 2014 was almost eighty years, yes, but Hogwarts was a huge, inanimate creature of habit. Bullocks, I had read 'Hogwarts: A History' about a million times, and it seemed things had been running the exact same for the last few centuries. If only I was able to consult Dumbledore about such things…

"You seem to be a very studious girl, Miss Granger." The slithery tone seemed to seep into my brain as a poison would into a victim, and it took all of my willpower to stop my spine from shivering in fear. How many people had heard such a voice, just before their untimely death? I was alone back here in the library, nobody could hear me cry out for help and I would die in vain.

No one truly knew me in this time, and so I would be lost forever.

"Y-yes." I spoke nervously, trying to maintain some sort of grip on my emotions before he saw right through me. "Though I don't know your name, how do you seem to know me so personally?" There, that sounded better! I was trying to be witty while respectful all at once to a young man that would soon turn maniacal and hunt my friends and I in the future… what the bloody hell was thinking? I should have whipped out my wand and sent him the Killing Curse right then and there, not giving him another second to seep into my mind.

That could end a few different ways: one, things could end up perfect for me wherein Dumbledore arrives from the future, collects me and covers up all wrongdoing of mine, two I could be sent to Azkaban for the rest of my life on murder charges for killing a presumed innocent student, or three (and this was the most likely of all) Voldemort could be quicker and stronger and kill me before I even had the chance to utter the curse. "You don't know my name? How absolutely rude of me then, Miss Granger." The false nicety in his voice drove my mind up the wall, but I balled my fist on my lap instead of snapping at him. I would never get used to men trying to make me feel foolish and silly.

"I am Tom Riddle." The gravity of the situation fell fully onto me right then; here he was, the world's most feared leader, standing there with an outstretched hand introducing himself as though he were a man of the Court.

As though I would ever consider shaking hands with him! "A pleasure to meet you." I licked my lips in silly anticipation. Would I ever have to guts to pull my wand on him? Well, even if I didn't, I was still allowed to feel antsy about the thought of it, correct? That was only human of me! He looked pointedly at his outstretched hand and I bit my lip to contain a growl as I gave it a stern shake. To my chagrin, he manipulated the barely platonic gesture and turned it into something rather… _sensual_. His thin lips found their way to the back of my hand and then the tip of my forefinger, but I was struck frozen and didn't dare move a muscle.

What was he doing to me? My lower belly stirred at such a foreign gesture; no one in my time had ever acted so attracted to me, let alone friendly. My two best friends were male and never saw me as more than one of the boys and there had never been enough time for a boyfriend or equal companion.

Finally I found it in me to snatch my hand away and hold it to my chest as though it had been bruised. "The pleasure is mine, Miss Granger." Was his sensual reply. Why hadn't Dumbledore warned me of this habit? Surely his overly active libido was enough of a red flag for me to be informed of! Why hadn't I expected it, though? All males were the same, even if they ended up being madmen in the end of the ordeal. "Perhaps you will consider joining me and my peers at dinnertime?" My heart stopped and sped up at the very same time when he spoke. Was that normal? It wasn't merely out of fear, I thought as much.

_Shouldn't you be asking if I want to sign my life away with a horrible forearm tattoo and serve you as a loyal minion for the rest of eternity_, my inner dialogue screamed. Did I truly want to torture myself by sitting with low key Death Eaters (before they became Death Eaters, hopefully), and pretend to enjoy their company? Gods no!"You want me to sit with you and your friends?" I felt the need to be corrected or confirmed, because this was just too out of the world for me. Flying broomsticks, slim pieces of wood capable of producing magic, and goblins protecting Wizardry money was no oddity compared to the proposition of sitting with a teenaged Voldemort and his lot of pre-killer pals. Sure, it was just dinner but in the same instance it was _not_ just dinner. It was dinner with _him_ and _them_.

Tom Riddle chuckled lightly and stepped forward, successfully pulling himself out of the shadows and into the light. My pulse spiked at him being so near and so… _gorgeous_. What a waste, the Dark Lord being a beautiful young man. He was the devil with wavy brown hair and dark grey eyes. Where were his horns and pitchfork, anyway? "Those snarky wizards aren't friends to anyone in this school and you would do well to remember that, Miss Granger." As if I needed his warning! I had no want to be buds with Grandpa Malfoy or Grandmum Parkinson anytime soon.

I slid my eyes from his flawless face down to the impeccably wrinkle-free oxford shirt he wore.

There were slight indentations of his physique from beneath all that clothing, and I wasn't expecting that. Wasn't he supposed to be a frail, birdlike man like Draco Malfoy? "Do you speak to everyone so personally, Mister Riddle?" The words "Mister Riddle" burned on the tip of my tongue as I said them. Voldemort eyed me speculatively but said nothing in return. "I do feel rather flattered that you seem to show a favor to me." Sure, I was dancing on the fine line of civil conversation and testing his patience… but playing the nervous mute was tiring.

"Would you rather I treat you like the rest of our population?" He smirked languidly, not giving away any of his emotions as he spoke down at me.

"To answer your question, yes. Being Head Boy allows me to know every student that is worth knowing in this school; do I approach them at their lonesome in the bowels of the library and kiss their hands? No, I do not." My face burned at the direction of this conversation. I wanted to run and away and erase the next words that came out of his delicious mouth. "And I certainly do not offer them a seat next to me at mealtime."

My mouth went dry at his broad and blunt way he articulated every given point, as though I hadn't even fazed him. What exactly _could_ phase a teenaged mass murder? Not that he had killed yet, or at least I hoped he hadn't, but he would in the future! That is, if I didn't succeed in my mission. Perhaps Dumbledore wanted to me to get all cozy with the early Dark Lord, maybe that was a way I was supposed to try in order to infiltrate his ranks? "Thank you for your offer, Mister Riddle." The tone I used was a leading one, and I used on purpose. This had a fairly slim chance of all being a mean joke or tacky male Slytherin set up.

Refusing him could possibly mean certain punishment, but it was a chance I was willing to take. My gut told me to decline, to wait it out and see just how far he would go to "get to know me" as Hermione Granger. I was in no way ready, but I needed to test him in any discreet way possible.

"I have more than a feeling that there is a 'but' ailing around in your answer." Tom Riddle had his hands clasped behind his back, giving more to his image of the ever contemplative, demented seventh year Dark Lord. The feigned smile was gone from his face, leaving only a carcass of a smirk behind. Was that rejection on his face? Heavens no, the Dark Lord couldn't possibly have been interested in me for more than a simple inquiry of the 'new girl' in school! I nodded with feigned reluctance, as if telling him hurt me in even a miniscule manner. If I could, I would have pulled his organs out and stomped all over them to Mariachi music… over and over and over again until my feet grew tired. I wished to cause Riddle as much pain as I possibly could. "Very well, I will let you revert to your studies." His nod of farewell was curt and the swish of robes behind him reminded me of a less dramatic Snape; how was he capable of doing this, making me feel like some sort of animal for declining a seemingly innocent plot to kill or maim or harm me?

Just when I thought he was gone for sure, he turned around swiftly and tugged at my concentration. "The answer to your Rune quarter puzzle is 'Animagus'."

I looked down to my paper, where indeed I had been missing the quarter puzzle answer and Animagus did fit, but when I glanced back up to thank him he was missing. It was fairly kind of him to service with me the missing piece to a very difficult piece of homework, without wanting praise or reward in return. In my time, I was used to being the one that had to come up with all of the answers all of the time. Was he trying to make it hard for me to dislike him, or something? I sighed angrily and tossed the book back onto the wooden desk with a loud _thud_. I had to remind myself just who I was dealing with, and I had to repeat the sentence '_Tom Riddle AKA Voldemort AKA the muggle world and the wizardry world's number one nightmare is trying to trick you' _a half dozen times. Without missing a beat, I delved back into my work and tried to think as little of him as possible.

That was perhaps the most trying component of my mission.

**A/N: I have the next few chapters already typed up, I just wanted to put this smaller chapter out as a pre-Halloween gift. Perhaps if I receive enough static I'll upload the next chapter on the 31st? Review and enjoy, as always.**


	6. Never Shall I Ever

Trisha Boot came storming down the hallway, a fierce look in her beady little brown eyes. Honestly, she looked more like a hamster than she did a human girl when she scrunched her face together! "That prat! I will surely have his head any minute now." She grumbled angrily, causing some eyebrow-raising attention along the way- she was Head Girl for her brains and leadership, though not for her irresponsible language and rash actions. Ophelia pursed her lips at the girl as we walked past, triggering a small pull string in my mind. Did she not like the girl? So I came right out and asked, not really expecting an answer.

"She and I were in competition for Head Girl position, but I am far more qualified if it's my opinion you're asking." Ophelia crossed her dainty arms, looking so much smaller in her skintight cashmere sweater. "My father said that it came down to breeding, and since the rest of the world seems to think that I am of 'higher lineage' I lost." I stayed silent, only wanting to ask a million more questions. "Since Tom and I are of pureblood descent, they didn't want two 'high lineage' blood types in both positions, so they chose Boot because she's muggleborn." I had to bite down on my fist in a less than discreet gesture to shout 'No he isn't'. Was that really what he was going on telling people in this time? Ha! My mind started thinking up tortuous ways I could use that against him… if the opportunity ever rose. I expected her to spit that word out, but it only sounded dull and bored as she said it. Her anger towards the girl and the system of Hogwarts was understandable given the inside information, but why hadn't they just booted out Riddle as an option?

"Why did they not consider taking Riddle out of the race?" I had to ask, if not for a true answer than for my very own need. Riddle wasn't the very best of this entire educational program, was he? There had to be more talented, nicer wizards around.

Ophelia stopped walking all together, a downward expression now marring her face. Oh, dear, what had I done? Would she be so offended that she stormed off? Would she tattle to Riddle that I had said his name in vain, as I assumed Penelope Parkinson had? I wanted to rewind time and go back to when we were just starting to walk down the hall, but there was no way I would cast an _Obliviate_ or _Imperio_ on the likes of Ophelia Greengrass. "I understand that you are new here, but you need to understand right now- and it actually needs to stick in there." She gestured to my temple. "Tom Riddle is not the sort of wizard that you should question aloud; if you have doubts in his wand work or otherwise, never acknowledge it. Though once you know him better, I am sure all doubts will evaporate and that space will be filled with fear."

Her tranquil blue eyes looked suddenly heavy with worthy… what worried her so? Worried for my life? Worried about her life? Worried that we would be overheard? "He is powerful, intelligent, fantastically advanced in ways that no other is capable of- in and out of this school- I dare say he is more powerful than Grindelwald." She hissed the name like a bad word, looking over her shoulder at the empty hallway behind us. "And Hermione, he is all-knowing." She whimpered the last part. At her words, I uttered a wandless silence barrier around us, causing her interest to pique.

All this time I spent idolizing and fawning over the girls of both Ravenclaw and Slytherin, whom came from wealthy families and had bright futures ahead of themselves at Riddle's beck and call. But here the most beautiful one of all stood before me, now shaking in her knickers at the thought of Voldemort knowing just a word of our conversation. Why had I ever considered a threat to my security or an idol to look at from afar? Beauty and good breeding didn't ensure a girl that she would have the blessed lifestyle those around her partook in. I only pitied Ophelia now.

"Ophelia," I put a consoling hand on her shoulder and peered right into her eyes, "don't be afraid. Though he seems all-knowing and in pursuit of certain limitless power, it is all a façade." I whispered softly, not giving her a moment to doubt my speech. "Whatever allegiance you have to that wizard, I want you to know that he is only that." _And much less in the future_, I wanted to add smarmily. "Just a man in wizard's clothing, parading around this school on a cloud of false pretenses and a made-up lineage."

I let my last sentence stay in the air, seeing as her eyes were growing wide as saucers. Yes, I was completely against everything he was doing. Yes, I just inadvertently spilled the beans about his true background. I didn't expect her to come running into my arms and want to fight for the Light, but her shocked silence was not helping any. Would she tell Voldemort what I said? I hadn't considered what would happen if the Alpha actually rolled over on me- I sort of assumed my charm and factual attitude would be enough. "So… you're saying- all this time, we… my brother and I…" Her breath came in short little rasps. My breath caught in my throat at the color she was turning. Had my revelations held such a powerful blow? We scuttled to an empty bench and there in complete silence, lest her heavy intakes of breaths and slow blows of air through her nostrils.

I suppose I would have a panic attack of sorts if I had just found out the man I was blindly trusting was not all that I thought he was. "But, how do you know for sure?" She spluttered.

I blinked many times, hoping that the closing and opening of my eyelids would result in some sort of answer. But alas, I opened my mouth and there was nothing. She gritted her teeth at my incompetence, hands balled into two tiny fists. "Are you _lying_ to me, Granger?" Her low growl almost spouted fear into my otherwise fearless act; where was the sweet, quiet girl I knew before?

"No! No, I swear to _Merlin_," I breathed out, "I am telling the truth! Though I am not- uh, _able_ to tell you my source, I can assure you it's the whole truth." My mind raced to think of ways to prove my innocence and honesty to her. Perhaps if she knew that he was a big phony, she'd get on my side? That is, if she was valuable to Voldemort as I first thought. "I will prove it to you anyway that you please." I choked out desperately.

The last thing I needed was someone as influential as her to think wrong or dishonest of me, especially if she was in close quarters with Voldemort often. It was harder than one would think to weed out the "maybes", "yeses" and "no's" when it came to Voldemort's circle- he didn't associate with anyone outside of Malfoy or Hollingway in class and just a few others at mealtimes. But I knew that by seventh year (and Penelope Parkinson's testimony) that he had a reach much greater than just those two boys- but I couldn't assume that everyone Hollingway and Malfoy associated with where directly apart of the 'Lord Voldemort' scheme. Were they calling him that yet?

Her eyes bounced back and forth over my face until she seemed satisfied with an answer. "I want to hear _him_ say it- from his very lips."

I shook my head wildly, knowing that was impossible as dragging the moon from the sky. "He will never! He's already poisoned all of your minds with his lie, why would he take it back now?"

Ophelia scooted away from me just a bit, but I noticed the movement as if looking through a microscope. "You know of the Knights of Walpurgis?" My eyebrows scrunched up in confusion- what in bloody hell was she talking about? I could only assume it was some ridiculous club Voldemort came up with!

"Yes." I lied easily, too easily for my liking. "I know of many things regarding Mister Riddle- I also know that name is _not_ what your lot call him." Her breathing grew heavier and heavier with every single word I said; would the gal have a heart attack right there in front of me if I kept bringing facts up? "I know that he is your Lord, as well as Malfoy's and Hollingway's-"

"Did one of them tattle to you?" She asked incredulously, as though expecting them to do such a thing any day.

"No, not them." I licked my lips, preparing to deliver some more lies. "I have an insider, who like I previously mentioned, prefers to stay anonymous." If she ever did belly down and demand an answer, I wasn't sure what I would tell her. Saying any relative name at all would mean certain punishment, even if I knew I had ways of keeping her from every telling Riddle.

"How did you know that I follow His teachings?" _You just told me_, I thought sourly. Had Voldemort picked the biggest blabbermouths in Hogwarts to keep his darkest secrets? Given she didn't come off as being one to spread other people's business out there, I hadn't even needed to use a curse or spell to get words out of her. Ophelia looked almost relieved when the question was out in the universe.

It was disturbing how she spoke of him as though he were god-like, placed above the rest of us on a pedestal of sorts. "My source is- err, my source is limited on details." I panicked when a dark gleam started in her eyes, "and so I do not know everything, and I certainly knew nothing about your allegiance to him. But it isn't hard to determine such a thing when you speak of him in the manner that you do." I shrugged easily.

Ophelia gave me an odd look. "All of Slytherin follows his teaching, though not as serious as the rest of us. There are select few- oh, _I_ have told you too much! I do _not_ want to be one of your acclaimed sources!" She cried out, a hand clamped tightly on her mouth.

I shot up from my seat. "No, Ophelia, I promise to you- in the name of my life, that I will never repeat what you say to me. It is for my ears only." All I had to do was reveal a chink in his armor, and she felt o her knees before me at once. She was nearly ready to give away all of his deepest, darkest misdeeds. "Shall I calm your fears?" I pointedly brought out my wand, to which she did in return, ready to curse me into oblivion if I even looked funny at her. "No, Ophelia, I don't want to duel! I am willing to take an Unbreakable Vow of silence to everything we speak of if you are as well."

After a few moments she nodded, her face somewhere between reluctance and acceptance. And so I held her left forearm just as she held mine, both of our wand tips touching. "I, Hermione Jane Granger, hereby make the Unbreakable Vow to never speak of, write of, telepathically communicate of, or allow anyone to know a word of my conversations with any Greengrass I shall ever meet. If I break this vow, I will perish immediately."

"I, Ophelia Lenora Greengrass, hereby make the Unbreakable Vow to never speak of, write of, telepathically communicate of, or allow anyone to know a word of my conversation with any Granger I shall ever meet. If I break this vow, I will perish immediately." The bounding effect of the spell was much harsher than I ever remembered it being, crippling the both of us in such horrific pain. Was our magic _that_ powerful? I cast it two times before, once with Ginny and once with Professor McGonagall, who were smart and quick witches in their own right, but it had never felt like this. I peered over at Ophelia, who was withering in agony just as I was- it was her, wasn't it? She had the kind of spellcasting that would be very beneficial to a wizard trying to take over the world.

It fit together like a puzzle. "That boy… with the scar on… his face, the one we ran into… yesterday- he's your relative… isn't he?" Though I wanted it come off like a question, the painful breaths I had to take in between made it sound more like a paragraph in a run-on sentence.

She crystallized her gaze on me. "My cousin, yes." Her enunciation was perfect and proper, even under our state of duress. "How long is this-" She choked back a sob and pushed on, "When does the pain end?"

Had she never cast an Unbreakable Vow before? And if she had, did it not feel this powerful? Perhaps both of our wands together were capable of making such a vigilant spell? I had read it somewhere that witches and wizards were more capable with magic when they were amongst more relative spell casters- was Ophelia my relative spell caster? "Have you never cast an Unbreakable Vow before?"

She shook her head slowly. "No, but I have seen it done to others. They weren't crumpled on the ground in pain, I can assure you." The pain was slowly subsiding, though not quick enough for my liking. "Why do you want to know about Dovrick?" Her suspicious look came back.

"I just…" I was at fault for words. I couldn't tell her that I was testing out my intuition skills, though that was the complete truth. I hadn't known he was actually related to her or that he was a Greengrass as well- but it was the way she looked at him the day before… lovingly like a sister but missing the natural rivalry between siblings. "He is working for Riddle isn't he?" When she only nodded, a lifeless look in her eyes, I perked up. "Who else does Riddle have beneath him?"

Ophelia scoffed. "Why would I tell you that? Better question, why would you assume He would allow me to have the free knowledge and walk about with it?"

I got up to my feet and offered her a hand to help get up, but she pushed it aside and stood on her own. "What does that mean?"

"Hermione, you really shouldn't be asking me all these questions! The less you know the better off you are." She said at last. I wasn't afraid of Riddle or any of his cronies, let alone her.

"I _need_ to know!" I exclaimed. "Please, Ophelia, I want to help you and all of the other innocents here. I can't give you exact details, but there it is- you know that I am not who I say I am! Yes, it's my real name and I really am a witch but all of the other details have been manipulated to bring me _here_. _Here_ to Hogwarts for our seventh year- I'm here for a reason, and I believe that reason is to stop Tom Riddle before he becomes _Lord Voldemort_, a wizard so evil that he makes Grindelwald look like nighttime ghost stories."

I hoped beyond hope that no one would ever find a way to loophole our Unbreakable Vow, lest we would both be dead meat on a silver platter. This was now the second person I told my truth to, though not all the way, she knew more than the others knew- and information like this could get an Unforgiveable Curse sent directly to my heart.

"You're late, Hermione Granger. Perhaps if you had come earlier…" Ophelia's lower lip wobbled dangerously, those pretty little blue eyes tearing up with sadness. "He _is_ Lord Voldemort, and I am so far in his debt that there will never be a way out of it- not even death. I am in the palm of his hand, just as the rest of this school is in one way or another. You're too late."


	7. Painful Lessons

After my dramatic afternoon with Lavinia and Ophelia, I decided an evening in would be exactly what I needed to further relax myself. Everyday I felt my world spin more and more out of control but no hope in the near future to stop it, only my thoughts of returning to Harry and Ron saved me from the inner turmoil I faced. I spent over two hours in the bathtub of the Prefect's Lavatory, soaking my sore limbs in lavender-infused oils and bubble treatment- it wasn't until my skin started pruning that I knew I needed to dry up and get on with my day. It was with extra care that I toweled myself down, allowing every movement that would have been otherwise rushed to be given time.

Why was I ever rushing before? Merlin obviously had other plans for me, and it didn't include this mission- I was the wrong person, Dumbledore was wrong for the first time in his life! He sent the wrong witch to complete this take.

With another bout of morbidity on my shoulders, I strolled from the bathrooms to my dorm in the Slytherin Dungeons. The Sorting Hat had immediately latched onto the secret fact that I was once a Gryffindor and rebelled against my accused "attempt at tricking thee" by placing me in my former rival House without a peep from my lips. I wanted to hide away from society when it shrieked "Slytherin" before Headmaster Dippet and his colleagues, all cramped together in his rather compact office. Dumbledore must have known some horrible secret about dear old Dippet, for all it took was a written letter penned by Albus but signed "Mr. Granger" to accept me in.

Who was paying my tuition? Had any of the clerical witches notice a discrepancy in my transcripts and written letters? Dumbledore had tried to cover all possible bases with my vague back story, but I couldn't help but feel that if a person wanted to truly dig I would be found out without heed.

I huffed angrily as I passed a few lounging classmates, all spread about on stiff leather sofas in the dank common room they deemed a palace. There weren't the usual hoard of rambunctious people, where were they at? A Death Eater meeting, held by the very man that was soon becoming the bane of my existence or a predominantly Slytherin-based Slug Club meeting further in the Dungeons? I wasn't sure what else could group together a House full of sneaky, stab-your-back-with-a-steak-knife wankers at the same place at the same time. Contrary to what Riddle was able to do in the future, Slytherins preferred to stay by themselves (or in very small cliques) because they only cared about one person- themselves. Honestly, it didn't matter to me in that moment- all I could think of was my comfortable mattress (which I had to magically charm for it was too stiff and impersonal at first) and the good that hours of sleep would do for me.

What felt like minutes but was actually 'hours' later, I awoke groggily to a ray of solitary sunlight peaking through the shutters of our false window. I rolled my eyes at the reminder- perhaps the staff felt bad for the Slytherins in the fact that they were cooped in an ice cold dungeon with no real windows or sunlight streaming through. A strangled hunger pain felt like a punch in the stomach as I stretched in bed, making me bite down on my fist to keep from waking the two other girls in my vast dorm room.

There were always more boys than girls in Slytherin, though I was now in a gaining position to realize that fact- besides, my two roommates were related in some way or another and stuck to each other, often leaving me the room to myself while they ventured off. I dressed to meet the rest of the school on such a gloomy Sunday morning, paying very little attention to my usual troupe of Ravenclaw-Gryffindors as I walked into the Great Hall for breakfast. I was fairly early so it wasn't very populated but I still felt uneasy, as though there was a worm crawling through my intestines throughout the entire meal.

With less vigor than I usually had, I plopped down at the far end of Slytherin House table and ate with tortured bites.

Seriously, it felt like there was something inside of me! After my third bite of the egg and cheese bagel, I felt my throat start constricting dangerously. _Dear Merlin, please let this pass- please, I beg of you, I'm so hungry!_ But either Merlin had no control over it or he was just plainly ignoring my calls, for my tummy visibly contracted and relaxed, repeating the motions for a few seconds. I screamed down at my offending body. What in bloody hell was that? What was wrong with my body?

"You're dreaming, you're dreaming, you're dreaming." I chanted to myself, not caring who saw or didn't see my spectacle. When the contracting grew too painful to sit there any longer, I bolted from my seat and ran for the nearest bathroom. Before I could even lift the seat, vomit spewed out of my mouth like a broken Muggle fountain. It was uncontrollable, and just when it felt like I was going to stop it would start full-force again. What was this? Had I eaten enough for my body to still be throwing up?

Involuntary tears fell from my eyes at the painful ache throughout my body. No ailment I ever had before could hold a candle to this- not the Flu, chicken pox, food poisoning! I heard the swinging door open silently and quiet footsteps follow it- almost as if a magical veil had been lifted, the nausea and vomiting left without a trace. I breathed a shaky sigh of relief, glad beyond comprehension that I wouldn't be overheard tossing my cookies. With a heavy hand, I lifted my wand and repeated _Scorgify_ three separate times before the spell finally worked. I _never_ repeated a spell, especially one as easy as that one! It made a new wave of sadness overtake me and more angered tears roll down my face. Did I just witness some hex or curse put on me? It was the first time I had actually taken a bite to eat on the Slytherin table- maybe Riddle or some other bigot from centuries ago decided to put curses against mudblood or blood traitors or anyone from another house? I was technically all three of those things!

"Miss Granger?" My eyes bugged out of my head when that velvety voice, the one that haunted me in my most quiet hours, speak out of the short abyss from my closed stall to the outside restroom.

"Ri- Riddle?" I squeaked out. What in the world was he doing in a Ladies Room? Especially in this time, a woman's personal space was not just polite but mandatory!

"I followed you from the Great Hall." His explanation was short and sweet, as though that made all of this much better. I stood up, shaking out the wrinkles of my long, old rose colored baby doll dress (Dumbledore warned me that excessive use of britches and shorts were an absolute no) and pushed open the flimsy barrier between us. Riddle's silver eyes, down a much darker shade, caught my own in his all-knowing battle like always. But it was different this time- they almost looked painful, as though he were guilty of something. But that was impossible because the Dark Lord was a heartless monster and thus forth knew nothing of remorse or any emotion related.

"And why did you feel the need to do such a thing?" I bristled as our close contact, his body just inches from mine as he blocked off my way out of the bathroom. This was a rather busy lavatory, even if it was still early, and girls would eventually pile in to fix their hair or do their early morning business. We were going to get caught! "What will Headmaster Dippet think of his Head Boy being caught in the Ladies Room?" I bit my tongue to stop from saying anything more.

I needed him to think I was a blushing belle, more worried over societal matters rather than my own selfish ones. If we were anywhere, just the two of us, there would be no witnesses to my murder. Then again if I pulled out my wand right now, with his still deep in his clean but obviously hand-me-down britches, I could have a chance at killing him once and for all. I rolled my eyes at my wishful thinking- if I had trouble with a third year spell like _Scorgify_, there was no way I could cast something advanced let alone an Unforgivable.

Riddle smiled softly down at me and surprised me by pushing a strand of hair behind my ears. In the halls and class time, I didn't see him so much as brush shoulders with people- why was he getting so close to me? Didn't it repulse him as much as it did me? "Dippet is an old fool, in any manner." He decided touching my hair wasn't enough. His fingers slid to the nape of my neck and I suddenly felt serenely relaxed, almost pleasant. I bit my lip to stop a moan from escaping me, it felt that good! Why hadn't Ron ever got that reaction out of me? I loved Ron, hadn't I? I hated Riddle and he could make something simple like my neck feel like the motherland! "Beautiful women are always the ones that require painful lessons. That is your downfall, unfortunately." He whispered to me, his face mere inches from mine.

I figured _I_ was the one breathing heavily, seeing as I could hear not-so-far-away panting in the background, but it was his voice that I hung onto. I tried my hardest to not focus on his massaging fingers, which started to feel like they were everywhere. I even shot my eyes down to the waist of my skirt to make sure his other hand had not wandered. Even if he wasn't physically touching me, it was as if he were mentally fingering every crevice my body owned.

I tried my hardest to calm my panting, but there was no use. Riddle was making me feel things I hadn't ever before. "What do you- ah!" the scream that left my lips before either of us could stop it, but this was not a pain-filled scream of terror. It was of pure pleasure.

"Shh, Lady Granger. Passersby will hear." Riddle said playfully, as though this was a fun game to him. How many other women, inside and outside of Hogwarts, had he done this to? But what _was_ he exactly doing to me? And if this hadn't felt so bloody good, I would have fought my way out of his enchantment and escaped. But who would honestly believe my story? _'Head Boy, the beloved teacher's pet to all professors, mentally fingered me in the First Floor's girl's bathroom!'_ I would sound absolutely ludicrous, not to mention the fact that I would be scandalized and gossiped about until I salvaged enough dignity to leave this place. So no, it wouldn't be easy to ever tell this to someone. "I never want to teach another painful lesson to you, Miss Granger." Riddle's eyes were stormy as they looked into my own- could he glimpse pieces of my soul the way he was staring? Something in my mind clicked at his words; my spontaneous and disgusting vomiting episode was brought on by _him_? He made all of that happen, without even touching or pointing a wand at me! I hadn't even seen him in the Great Hall when I walked in, but he sure did see me coming. Why the 'painful' lesson and why did he choose not to repeat it? I wanted to throw the fact that all he ever knew how to give were painful lessons, but he pushed up against me instead.

I gasped, becoming _very_ short of breath. No one, man or wizard, had ever been in such close quarters with me- my first experiences with the male kind had to be with this lunatic, didn't they? The Fates were cruel bitches! I couldn't help the thoughts that went through my head- _we're each other's firsts for this type of experience, aren't we? He's as inexperienced as you, remember that! Stop breathing like that! Why are you turned on by his ministrations? Stop thinking about what he would possibly look like naked…_ I looked up at him, staring at him for the first time.

His chiseled jaw line and defined cheekbones were something out of a Greek mythology drawing book, nothing near the reality men were in this century. And his breath, warm and minty, seemed to make him a little more human that ice cold stone like I first assumed. His thin upper lip and fuller bottom one drew into the ghost of a smile when he caught my eyes- dear Merlin, he knew I was staring at his lips didn't he? I blushed a horrible shade of red when he teasingly brought his lips closer, as though it was strange coincidence. "I only ever wish to instruct pleasurable lessons in your presence, Miss Granger."

My eyes rolled to the back of my head when his fingers flexed once more around the nape of my neck, sending an Earth-shattering sensation that started on the tip of my nose and all the way down to my ankles. I called out in pleasure, though I wasn't sure just what I said, and clutched the nearest thing to me- it was consequently his shoulders, but he seemed to be all too ready for my embrace. His larger arms went around my shaking frame, and I felt so whole and complete just then. It lasted moments on end, and at the end of each low moan I thought the wave of pleasure would be over. But it continued rolling over me, like the vast, endless ocean kept its constant waves upon the shores of Venice Beach.

"_Tom_." The name spilled from my lips before I could contain it and in that moment I felt more euphoric saying that three letter word than I was when Ron fumbled for an hour over my breasts during our sixth year. Just thinking of Ron made my stomach churn- I just allowed riddle pleasure me in the compact stall that smelt of pure vomit while I hadn't let Ron ever touch me below my chest area. I was such a hypocrite; no one would ever forgive me for my weak moment!

"I'll expect your presence at supper in my corner." He whispered softly before disappearing all together, and the dead silence that followed made me question whether or not all of that truly did just happen. With still shaky knees, I busted out of the stall and ran faster through the zigzag hallways of Hogwarts as though bludgers were on my tail; who did he think he was? I hadn't given him permission to pleasure me the way he did! Sure, I moaned and sighed in response, but the ministrations were unwanted. We weren't in a relationship and we hadn't known each other for more than a few days, if our brusque exchanges even counted.

"Whoa, Hermione!" Ophelia called after me and trailed me all the way to my bedroom, where I threw myself face down onto the bed. "What's so wrong?" She asked shakily, likely fearful that it had something to do with her.

"Nothing." I muttered angrily in reply. It wasn't anything that could be helped, anyway. What was done was done and there was no way to take it back. The best thing I could ever do was wipe if from the forefront of my mind and just move on!

This wasn't something I could ever say aloud. "No, Hermione, we're _friends_." Ophelia put a consoling hand on my back. "And I don't like seeing you like this! Tell me what's got you troubled before I start imagining the most horrid scenarios." _Well, they wouldn't be as bad as the truth_, a snarky voice inside of hoofed.

I pinched the bridge of my noise in frustration, but I refused to lash out at her. At least _someone_ cared about what I thought and wanted! "It's Riddle… he, well-" I groaned in frustration and kept walking to my room, as though she hadn't happened at all.

"He what?" She asked, spooked as a ghost behind me.

"He…" I looked at her from the corner of my eye, not fully facing her but giving a shoulder look in response. "He taught me a painful lesson today." The gasp that left her lips did not go unnoticed, but I decided to pay it no attention and continued on into my room. Ophelia was the Alpha, but I knew she didn't hold the kind of power to make Riddle pay for anything he ever did. I silently wondered just what sort of power she did wield, and how she planned to use it for her benefit. Was she in complete cahoots with Riddle? Did they have a secret of open alliance? Was it even right for me to trust her, even after our Unbreakable Vow? I was beginning to feel drowned in the sea of my thoughts, so I rolled over in bed and pressed my face against the pillow instead. Though I was asleep for over twelve hours not that long ago, more slumber found me before no time at all. Whatever was in the Slytherin air sure did make fore peaceful sleep that was for sure.

"…wake up! Granger, _get up_!" A rather rough voice spoke down on me, shaking my shoulder none too gently in their mission.

"Ow!" I grumbled back in protest and sat up quickly, or as quickly as I was capable of, and rubbed the sleep from my eyes. "Yes?" The testiness in my voice was not completely directed towards the tall, squarish girl before me but she had some fault in my attitude.

"Don't have sass with me." Her pinched facial features made her look sour, but as I would come to find out, that was just how her face naturally settled. Sourface, as I would come to call her, was the roughest, most impatient Slytherin girl I would ever meet. When she shifted swiftly away from me, her longer-than-necessary black robes swished around her stocky legs in a manner that was unmistakable. I instantly shot up from bed and tailed her, not caring the state of my dress or hair. "Decided to follow me after all? Good." She stepped through the threshold that separated many of the Slytherin girl's rooms, not craning to keep the portrait open for me as well. "You aren't a complete imbecile, excellent work." Yes, that was also unmistakable. All she needed to do next was call me an "insufferable know-it-all" and I would have all of the doubt in the world erased from the depths of my mind.

"Your name?" I inquired offhandedly, not sure how else I was supposed to approach such an aggressive individual as she.

She scoffed in my general direction as she led me to the Great Hall. "Aren't you supposed to be Lady Granger or something? I suppose your manners have suddenly lost you with the lack of nutrition."

I made an angry noise at the back of my throat but pushed it aside with a bright smile and an outstretched hand, blocking one of the several entrances into the food hall. "I am Hermione Granger, and what might be your name?" My parents hadn't been overly prudent when teaching me to be polite, but I knew enough to get me by. Walk behind the man, beside the woman, gently touch elbows at dinner in gratitude, never slurp, maintain a pen-straight posture, allow your hand to be kissed, doors to be opened, and shoulders to be hugged. It would last me long enough.

"Why, the infamous Lady Granger chooses to associate herself with someone as low on the totem pole as myself?" She bit back viscously, mock bowing my servitude. "How very gracious of you, my lady," I grew uneasy beneath her rueful look, as though she hated the ground I walked on without even knowing more than my name, "I shall remember to speak my gratitude of your service in my dinner prayers."

"There's no need to be so rude!" I lashed out in frustration, my hands in knotted tangles by the end of her demeaning speech. I understood where she was coming from, though I could not imagine the rumors she allowed herself to entertain of me- how much horrible lies had spread about me for her to be hateful in my presence?

She shut her mouth at my command, or perhaps it was a comment, and suddenly seemed to remember there was a reason to our two lives meeting. "Riddle sent me to fetch you for the evening." I could tell she nearly had to force out the name 'Riddle' not out of loathing, but clearly out of respect. She was a follower, wasn't she? How badly did she want to correct herself with a quick "my lord" instead? "He was correct in assuming you would be slumbering throughout supper- have you nothing better to do than sleep, anyway?" Her self-righteous tone was resurfacing once more.

"Not that it is any of your concern," I reminded her snottily, "but I have spent long nights studying for our NEWTS."

She grinned wickedly. "Is that so? Are you also conducting these study sessions in bathroom stalls?" My mouth was agape at her meaning- she saw, or rather heard, what had happened earlier? I blinked afew times to start a rebuttal, either defending myself or denying it all, but her sharp shrug stopped me. "I do not care what sort of allegiance you prove to have to Riddle," something definitely caught in her throat that time, "I only care if you are important as He seems to believe." She turned to walk away once more, her robes following her with all of the regal I knew she was capable of. They weren't made of fine material like Malfoys or Lavinia's, but they were worn with confidence that it was hard to tell.

"And anyway," she gave me one last look before turning back around, "the name's Serpentia. Serpentia Snape."


	8. Interruptions

**A/N: Readers, please be aware that these characters keep flying at me with their unique personalities and I will muck up the names and relations of characters… so don't take any canon to heart! As always, I love your reviews and attention to detail.**

I was so sure it was her, but even as the words slithered from her mouth and wound their way around my throat, doubts bubbled make up to the surface. Serpentia Snape, as in Snape's infamous potion-brewing aunt on his father's side? It was really her; I was really standing before one of the most powerful potion makers of all time! I commanded her to shut up on whim and she had. I did that to one of Snape's relatives? I was starting to feel queasy and faint all over again, but luck was not on my side. Counting every unlucky star, I did not pass out on my way to Tom Riddle. My feet did the opposite of what I wanted and actually walked faster towards him and his group, as though all problems would cease to exist if I were suddenly in his presence. It was a like a cloud I was hitching a ride on, and I was pulled down from it when Riddle stood up to meet me. His hand was already waiting before it took my own and sat me down next to him, like a good little pet.

I bristled at the thought of being a pet to anyone, lest the Dark Lord. "I am elated to see that you made it safely to me this evening. Serpentia has been kind with you, I assume." He was speaking directly to me but his eyes were elsewhere. Did he even know what the word 'elated' even felt like? I severely doubted he was ever happy with himself, or his life. Without verbally answering, I nodded my head and looked down at my empty plate. My stomach grumbled nosily to my chagrin, catching the others sitting around us in surprise. Everyone assumed I was the perfect Lady figure, seeing as they only had Lavinia's stories of my life and her own image to compare me to. Ladies could not help it when they were suffering from hunger pains, could they? It was only natural! "You are famished." He sounded almost disappointment.

I nodded curtly once more before piling a small serving on my plate. If I stuffed my face with all of the suddenly overly-delicious looking food, I would surely be exiled from their VIP seating wouldn't I? So I fought down the urge to go mad with my food, remembering exactly how I felt every time Ron insensitively did so, instead finding some satisfaction in the small, controlled bites I was currently taking. "As I was saying," Riddle regarded both Hollingway and Malfoy in the same turn, "there are no incentives which come string-free. You must always pay for what is rewarded to you- surely, these are schoolyard ethics to you, correct?" It was almost impossible for a man to be equally abrasive to two people at one time, but he somehow achieved it. They nodded in unison and took another bite right after their Master did. Was I meant to follow in their footsteps?

Ha! The thought that they would want me to do anything near to what they did make me break out in menacing laughter. They could go to bloody oblivion for all I cared. "Yes, my L-" but Malfoy stopped mid-sentence, catching my eye during his blubber, "Yes, you are correct." So Riddle expected his Death Eaters to turn switches on and off in an instant, in public and in private? How did he truly expect wizards and witches to get away scot-free under that kind of pressure? It was a wonder girly boy Malfoy didn't crumble under the mere thought of calling Voldemort out of his name. "Good evening, Miss Granger." He said in an odd tone, as if he were _Imperio_'_d_ to do such a thing. When I glanced over at Riddle, he seemed rather entrapped by his pumpkin pie and so it couldn't have been him. Perhaps Malfoy was just trying to offer an olive branch to me? Perhaps he was giving me the chance to get within Voldemort's inner ranks, if only as a distant companion at meal time. It would certainly do for now.

"The same to you, young Lord Malfoy." I flourished Draco's grandfather with his formal title, something not very many people did without blunder. Some wizards took offense to it in informal settings, but if I knew the Malfoys as well as I thought I did, it would only compliment. When the small swell of a one-sided smile appeared on his aristocratic face, I shined with glee and sent another smile in return. My moment was broken when I felt a hot glower directed towards my left cheek- I could quite literally feel the heat of his look, eyes so suddenly blacked that they pierced right through the façade I created for Malfoy.

Without looking up at Voldemort, I took another small bite and almost forgot how to swallow- why did he have to stare down at me like that? Were his loyal servants not entertaining enough for him? Surely I wasn't invited to dinner with him so that I could sway and blush over every little thing he said? There a hundred other both female and male wizards and witches that would kill to have the opportunity- he was easy on the eyes, full of unsurpassable knowledge, and was quite the conversationalist when he deemed a 'companion' worthy of his time. Also, he was Head Boy. There was not a better catch to be caught in the land of Scotland.

"Do not feel the necessity to be so proper, Miss Granger," Riddle bit out like acid on his tongue, "he likes to be regarded with lazy informality, don't you Abraxas?" Riddle was obviously upset at something one of us said if his hilted tone had anything to do with it- but it was the look of death he sent to Abraxas that sealed the deal. I looked back and forth between the two men, hoping to Merlin that Malfoy would not be harmed for his blunder in my presence. Truly, Riddle was the most selfish, self-centered wizard on the planet! Was he so horribly jealous that I could freely call Malfoy by 'Lord' but not him? It wasn't my fault that the Malfoys were born into Lordship many generations back.

I didn't curse Riddle with a muggle father, his mum Merope Gaunt did that. "But weren't Lords born to be called by their given titles? It just isn't well-to-do to call a wizard out of his name when he so rightfully deserves the designation." I looked up at him, seemingly innocent, acting as though I hadn't just made an analogy to his real-life situation. If what I needed to do was butter up the Dark Lord in indirect statements, I would. I missed the look of painful adoration on Malfoy's face, only focusing on the up curve of Riddle's previously stern upper lip. If only Dumbledore could see me now, sitting a mere foot away from his greatest enemy, and cozying up to him in the most polite, least giddy-schoolgirl way possible.

When he didn't say anything in return like I expected him to, I slung my eyes away from his. No "thank you" or "how kind of you to falsely compliment me"? Dear Merlin, how many more of those subtle compliments was I suppose to give? I didn't want to overdo it in fear of seeming like too much of a kiss ass, so I started eating once more. The small portions of food did almost nothing to sate my thirst for calories, and somehow he knew that. Without breaking away from his in-depth discussion with his croons about magical misfire and how _magnificent_ it was, he settled more food onto my plate. I took it as nothing more than a heaven-sent sign that I should dig in, and that was exactly what I did. We spent the rest of the evening like that, wherein Malfoy and Hollingway leaned in to hear every single syllable their Master made while I ate my life away. I hadn't even paid attention to what they were saying (though I was fairly certain that was the point of my joining Riddle for dinner) as I nearly licked my plate clean. A small swell was hid beneath my long sweater and high pants, created by the pure joy of feasting for the first time in an entire twenty-four hours. At the commencing of supper, Riddle waved off his pals and clutched onto my elbow to lead me away from the Slytherin commune.

I bit my lip multiple times to stop myself from questioning him. The air was too silent and sanative to break it with my clumsy questions, I merely allowed him to take the lead role while I fell back a step or two behind him. Was he the type of leader to be in the back, front, or middle of his followers? Did he like being surrounded by the vast sea of followers he had, much like King James? Or was he the charming, oh-so-brave villain that took charge at the very front like Leodonis of Sparta? I personally believed he was the kind of tyrant that stayed in the very back and watched his entire foolishly brave, absolutely blinded soldiers die one by one, just like Adolf Hitler. "Where are we going?" I blurted alas.

Riddle sent me a look from the corner of his eyes, as if seeing me in a much different light than he had at dinnertime. "It is funny- you did not ask 'where are you taking me', but instead you asked 'where are we going', implying that you refuse to do anything unwilling." He read me like a book.

I gaped up at him, thinking of the right words to say to him. If I said anything too quick or witty, he could show a temperamental side, but if I chose something too soft and willing I would disappointing both him and myself. "You aren't going to make me do anything _else_ unwilling, are you?" I almost flinched when I said 'else', conveying my deep-seeded anger at what he did to me earlier that day.

"If I made you do something willingly, that is not the same as 'unwillingly' is it?" He was turning me about with the wording of his question. "If there is a certain sensation that you want but your mind refuses to let you have," Riddle faced me full-on, not caring what his stare was doing to me, "I am simply gifting you euphoria. It is a shame that beautiful girls can never take a gift for what it is- there is never gratitude." I furrowed my eyebrows at his tone- he seemed disappointment and a little offended, as though I was suppose to get on my knees and cry over my gratitude. Just how many other girls here in Hogwarts, or in Slytherin, or in his ranks, did he 'gift' with a spell causing pleasure?

I blushed, counting this as the second time he said I was beautiful out loud, but he was perhaps the only person in the world to turn calling someone beautiful into a bad thing. Did he really see me as some cliché 'beautiful girl' that used men for a good laugh or to get my kicks? I hadn't aligned myself to any male companion since starting here, so he had no reason to accuse me of such! "Are you used to people groveling at your feet, Mister Riddle?" If I hadn't known his background and the answer to my own question, it surely would have been answered with his pensive look. Yes, his ditzy followers licked his boots clean if they were allowed but I couldn't feign appreciation for what went on between us; I was still upset over the whole ordeal!

Voldemort smirked evilly, pulling my chin towards him with a hand. From first person accounts and even Dumbledore's testimony, Riddle was not a very personal wizard by far- he actually preferred people to keep their space, even frenzied followers like Bellatrix and Lucius. So why did he take every opportunity to get me closer? "One day you will as well, Miss Granger."

I yanked myself out of his clutch and stormed off, not daring to hear another word. He was nothing, he was no one! My best friend was destined to kill him, and had killed a part of his soul when he was just a little poppet lying in a crib! This stupid joke was still so young and unrightfully cocky for me to deal with at the moment. I needed to get back to my dorm and regroup, hopefully able to pull myself together and face the monster for breakfast. But before I got very far, he snatched my by my arm and stabbed with his infamous glare- in all my seven years tailing Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley, I stared many evils right in the eye with little more than shaking hands and a cold sweat.

But the way the young Voldemort was staring down at me in that moment was enough for me to almost lose all control. I felt as though he would read my face and learn all of my dangerous secrets, or perhaps slither his way past the Occulmency walls I was trained to keep up at all times. "Do not ever walk away when our conversations are unfinished- _Hermione_!" He pulled my already-bruised arm to his chest as to catch my attention, shoving me closer to him than necessary. My mouth was gaped open, not ever expecting to hear my name come from those lips- the luscious, soft pink ones (and _never_ did I want to hear the reptilian version of him to speak my name) that could do damage or fix your life in a mere second or two. "I mean what I say." I glared up at him, snarling in a purely animalistic manner back at him. He was neither my father nor my owner; I could walk away from him whenever I pleased!

"You are not _my_ master, I do as I please!" I yelled back at him, even if his voice never left the low octave the entire time. I was not capable of being threatening in low voices; it was my fault that schools didn't teach us how to threaten others! "If I wish to walk away when I am bored, I will!" The murderous look in his swimming grey opals was enough to send me over the edge of sanity, but I declined passing out or even running away. I stood right there, slammed against his chest in the middle of the South End corridor heading down towards the dungeons- and I looked right back up at him, refusing to look as I scared as I felt.

"Oh, so I _bore_ you?" Riddle looked absolutely murderous. No, he didn't bore me exactly, but he did have a fine way of frightening the piss out of me! But I figured making him feel boring rather than imposing was better for my position.

"No, Mister Riddle," I feigned a cute smile, "just the things you say." I assumed he would hex me with something foul, but he only tossed my arm back to me along with my freedom. Why did he let go of me? I sent him a demanding look when Dumbledore passed right by us, a tall, lean Gryffindor boy in tow.

"Ah, Head Boy and Miss Granger, good evening." Dumbledore's usual jolly mood seemed sour and forced before us. And he said our names with such disdain that I almost had to look away. I detested not being a teacher's favorite, and I grew up believing Dumbledore was my greatest mentor to achieve for. He saw the sadness in my face and took it the wrong way. "Lover's quarrel?"

Riddle spluttered angrily, not knowing what to say first. As Head Boy, he was constantly being looked at and critiqued, but it seemed that when Dumbledore had assumed we were 'lovers', it was an accusation that twisted his knickers extra tight. "No, Professor." Riddle bit out at last.

"Well, good then, young Mister Riddle." My previous Headmaster sent me one last look, lingering on my sore right arm that Riddle decided to play tug-o-war with, before nodding in my direction and continuing his stroll. They were almost out of earshot before the Gryffindor boy came jogging towards us, a strict look on his face. I swallowed nervously, silently pleading him to join his professor before he got himself in more trouble than he could ever imagine. I was not as scared of what Riddle would do to me as much as what he would do to others- they were so trusting and blind towards him!

I felt Voldemort stiffen as the boy grew closer. "Miss Granger, is it?" Without acknowledging Riddle, I nodded happily and sent the stranger a feigned smile. Lavinia pressed me about smiling more and being friendly to people, even when oppressed in the worst situations. She explained that it was only expected of a Lady, no mater how young or 'pure' her blood status. "Damian McLaggen, Gryffindor Seeker." He held out his hand for me, and I shook it with more vigor than necessary. _Do you know that your grandson grows up to be a cocky jerk that has no idea how to be a gentleman_, I wanted to snap at him but held myself back. This Damian McLaggen had nothing to do with Cormac McLaggen and our failure to date in sixth year. "I was followed Dumbledore to see about new uniforms when I came upon yelling and such- I just wanted to make sure you were okay?"

_Bless your poor soul_. "Miss Granger," Voldemort hissed, "is doing well in my care, boy." I rolled my eyes at how absolutely scorned he was acting. Was it so wrong that a fellow student, even if he was from the opposite House, was concerned about another's welfare? It sounded quite noble to me.

"Yes but I asked Miss Granger, not you Riddle." Damian McLaggen's sweet voice turned aggressive within mere seconds. I was almost taken aback by the shift in attitude, but perhaps there was more to the story between these two than I knew? Rivalry of some sort, it would seem. As entertaining as it was to watch Riddle try to get a handle on his temper in front of an awaiting professor and a cute boy, I had enough of it. If Damian McLaggen wanted to test Riddle's patience and harm himself, I wouldn't allow him to do it on my part. I could take care of myself!

"Thank you for your concern, McLaggen," I tried to stay neutral with him, not too formal but neither too casual, "but I am just fine. A heated conversation is all." Though I was grateful of Dumbledore's sudden appearance, since it seemed that Voldemort was very near hexing me just a minute ago, the faster I made them leave the faster I could make my exit as well.

McLaggen gave me one last look before nodding and turning away, which could have been a very fateful mistake. I would never willingly turn my back on someone like Voldemort; I wasn't going to make it that easy to kill me! When they were gone far enough, Riddle sent me a perplexed look. "Why did you not attempt to tattle?"

We stared at one another and allowed a massive amount of seconds to pass between us. My first answer was 'because Dumbledore wouldn't have believed me anyway' but I thought for a second- what if I played on this? I could pretend I had my very own personal agenda, as though I were trying to achieve his trust or gratitude. Yes, that could work. "I don't particularly enjoy fellow classmates getting in trouble over mutual wrongdoings." That was an outright lie- Ron and Harry hated me for a week or so after I reported the anonymously gifted Firebolt he received our fourth year. I always did the right thing! It was a curse and a blessing. "Even you, Mister Riddle." I flourished him with a small smile, acting as though all of the wrongs were forgotten between us. "Is our conversation over now? I need sleep for tomorrow's lessons." I tried my hardest to keep the sarcasm out of my voice.

He was about to answer me, whether with scorn or pleasantries, when we were rudely interrupted a second time that night.

**A/N: TBC.**


	9. The Horizon

_A/N: I'm not too sure if any of you are still reading this… review to let me know if you're still interested, readers! I know I have a few of you loyal ones that always let me know how I'm doing and what I can do to improve, so thank you very much! _

My cheeks grew red at my own impatience- seriously; couldn't two teenagers have a conversation in a hall without being bugged insistently? "Milord." Hollingway whispered in his direction, and I pretended to not to leaning in. "Mister Parkinson and Healer Nott are in Slughorn's office awaiting your presence."

What was he doing talking to Pyrus and Penelope Parkinson's and Ezryne Nott's dads, and this late in the evening? I wasn't aware students were even allowed to talk to visitors outside of Headmaster Dippet's offices! Armando Dippet was perhaps the shittiest headmaster to ever have graced the hallways of Hogwarts- he had let evil in, and he let it fester inside the walls of his very own academic constitution.

So without another word, Riddle nodded farewell to me and walked away with Hollingway on his tail.

I immediately took action by jogging my way through the winding hallway on the other end, hoping to cut Voldemort off on my way- when I came up to the dungeons where Snape used to make my life a living hell, I jumped behind a hanging tapestry as Riddle found his way inside of the room. When I was positive Hollingway was not lurking about, I stepped forward and leaning into the door, praying to Merlin it wouldn't squeak with my weight upon it.

The heavy wooden door blocked out their voices, so I put the tip of my wand ever-so-lightly against the door and closed my eyes in concentration. "…yes, Mister Parkinson, I understand your worries and apprehension- they are not misdirected." Riddle had his sweet boy tone, "But your son is an exceptional student, as well as your son Healer Nott. They are flourishing greatly here, and I believe that you will do nothing good to their progress by taking them away from Hogwarts."

I hadn't met Penelope Parkinson's older brother yet, but his reputation certainly preceded him. Lavinia admitted to dating him for a few months before his exclusivity and closed-off attitude became more than she could deal with. She also mentioned he was quite gifted at potion-making, which was probably his role in the Death Eater circle.

I swallowed throatily. He was begging them to let their sons stay, then? How funny would it have been to see someone as high and mighty as Lord Voldemort to beg his follower's parents to allow their kids to stay at this school? "Mrs. Parkinson does not see it so black and white, Tom." I could almost see the wince on Voldemort's voice at hearing his Muggle name said so outright. "My wife is a difficult witch at times, but I certainly understand her fears this time 'round. Tom, boy, do you see what this crazy wizard is? He is out to kill people, the purer the better." Mr. Parkinson had a low, gruffly voice that was difficult to hear through the door.

A third voice sounded, one I assumed that belonged to Healer Nott. He coughed loudly before moving around the room. "What sort of assurance can you give us? Surely nothing worth allowing our children as bait for Grindelwald and his regime of crazed fans?" It was insanely ironic that they were talking to one madman about another madman. Couldn't they smell evil when they saw it? Healer Nott was a highly decorated healer that served St. Mungos for longer than any other wizard of our times, he both smart and reasonable. "I appreciate your concern for my son, but it is misplaced. If you knew what was good for you, you'd hightail it out of here as well." He was getting closer and closer to the door, almost with his hand on the knob, but Voldemort's voice halted him.

Tom stopped them in their tracks. "I can promise high ranks," my eyebrows knitted together at his 'promise', "if I am sure that Ezryne can stick it out through the terror of Grindelwald, I will allow him entrance to my inner circle. That is my assurance, Healer Nott." The room when deadly quiet with his proclamation.

"Inner circle?" Mr. Parkinson spluttered. I silently wondered just how many followers Riddle had in order to group them with 'inner circle' and 'outer circle'…ten, fifteen, twenty? It made my head spin wildly, suddenly realizing just what I was up against. It seemed doable when I assumed he stuck to Malfoy and Hollingway, even if they both came from highly-acclaimed, prominent wizardry bloodlines.

But I was just one girl against a whole regime of blood-thirsty wizards now!

"The same goes for your son, Mr. Parkinson. Pyrus has brilliant potential, as well as his sister if not for her loose sense of discretion." _Whelp, that sure sounds like Pansy to me_, I wanted to add in. "Both of your sons will have the pleasure of joining me in my quest, if they are proven worthy. This," his voice was more slithery in that moment than ever before, "is the perfect opportunity for that to happen. Let me ask of you this- will your sons be better prepared for the world if they are coddled by their mothers or allowed to fight along side legends, having the chance to become legends themselves?"

Was this Hitler or Tom Riddle speaking? He was affluent and educated; it was hard to pick at the discrepancies in his voice, and so hardly anyone ever truly questioned what he said.

I silently prayed that these men would be the great fathers I wished them to be. _Take your kids and run, please, I beg of you_, I internally screamed. _Take them away from this place and away from this bloody bastard if you ever truly love them._

"Very well, I will entrust you with my son's and daughter's life, Mister Riddle." The formality in Mr. Parkinson's voice was enough to make me want to pull my hair out- did these men know that they were signing their kids' death wishes? "But if this evil git invades the country of Scotland, or this school, and they are harmed…" Mr. Parkinson snorted out a bout of breath through his nose. "I will destroy your name, your human form, and anything else that is dear to you."

_Well that's easy enough, nothing is dear to him_.

Riddle chuckled in response.

"Perhaps if I were two feet shorter with as little wand experience as the average seventh year, that might have scared me. But let me tell you this- and this goes for either of you. I do _not _take threats lightly." He switched off from a begging brat to a distinguished wizard in just under a minute. "But I will allow your folly this once- do you have any further concerns?" The men both stood up at such a point and made their way to the door, but I didn't stick around and watch. I ran as fast as my short leg took me, all the way down the stone staircase and didn't stop until I made it through

the Slytherin portrait and up to my dorm.

**Saturday-**

After Lavinia and I finished our Herbology detentions, Professor Buglejart cleared

our names of trouble and let us leave a few minutes early to our satisfaction. "You know, that was the very first time I have ever been late for class in six plus years." She muttered bitterly.

"Me too." I chimed in.

"Truly?" Lavi sent me a curious side glance, as if waiting to catch me in a lie.

I nodded with a sly smile. "Yes, I was- _am_ very serious about my studies. I had two very irresponsible best friends that nearly begged me to slack off with them any chance they had, but after a few years they came to understand my need for knowledge." Just thinking about Harry and Ron brought a big smile to my face. They were impossible jerks at their best, but I loved them for all of their jagged edges and off-balance acts. "I suppose you are very lucky to have female pals that actually promote the completion of schoolwork and high test scores."

Lavi's eyebrows rose in unabashed curiosity. "Your best friends were _both_ boys? Interesting." Though she wasn't as aloof as the few days before, we definitely weren't much closer to painting each other's nails and having sleepovers. "Are they perhaps the reason behind your choice to be here?"

I tossed the question around in my head, using silence to contemplate every answer I came up with me. We rode the staircases down to the ground floor and met at the crowded plaza with the countless other students heading in for lunch. "Yes and no." I finally replied.

"Well it can't be both ways! Either yes for them, or no for another." Lavi shrugged easily.

It was a quick fix for her because she could never understand the magnitude of my travels or experiences. She didn't understand my mind, and if she couldn't than I doubted any other could.

"_Yes_, I am partly here for them. _No_, I am not here for only them. It was always us three, but we had many friends and allies that were also heavily involved in everything. As well as foes- in my time, enemies are friends and friends are enemies." She sent me an odd look at that, but we were silenced ad Verlaine cut our direction off before we even made it to their table.

"Lavinia, have you heard?" She was excited, scared, and jumpy all at once. Her oxford blouse was for once buttoned all the way up and her fingers were knotted all together, as though she were expecting Queen Elizabeth to walk through the doors at once. When my companion shook her head in a dazed manner, Verlaine jumped right in. "It's your father, and mine, as well as some others! They're all here, here in Hogwarts!" I swallowed nervously. Oh no, oh dear this couldn't be happening!

Vicomte Brocklehurst was quite known in this time, as Mandy once told me of her great-grandparents, but he would be the last to carry his title and therefore the reign of a bobble-head Vicomte of Deularich died with him in old age. What was the duty of a Vicomte in any sense, and in the Wizardry world no less?

An even better question was why he was here in Hogwarts- weren't there more pressing matters in _Deularich_? "Do you suppose we're in some sort of trouble?" Verlaine spurted worriedly. I was sure Lavinia would scold her for even assuming their pristine names could be attached to trouble, but she said nothing at all.

I looked to and fro the two girls worriedly. Did they fear their fathers so? Should I have fallen in line with them and feared for their safety as well? "Surely it is nothing serious." I tried to comfort them softly. "It is probably just a council meeting with the Heads of Hogwarts, nothing more." I placed a consoling hand on Lavinia's shoulder, but she shrugged off quickly.

"My father isn't a governor of the board, or member the council." Lavinia said shakily. "He is an investor and donator to Hogwarts, but that is the extent of his involvement with my schooling. I suppose, until now." She pursed her lips and I pretended not to notice the redness starting around her eyes.

Verlaine clutched onto Lavinia's long sleeve top as a tiny poppet would to her mother's skirts. "Lavi, do you think they're here… for _that_?" I tried to avert my eyes from their special bonding moment to look around the other tables, searching for anything out of the ordinary. As much as I wanted to lean in and hear their whispering, I fought the urge and hung back. My eyes searched long and hard, spotting very few students that started to stand out, Malfoy being the only one that mattered. A matter concerning Lavinia, Verlaine, Malfoy, and all of their fathers?

I couldn't fathom such an ideal, instead let Lavi lead the way as we snuck out of the Great Hall- though we more or less plainly walked out, seeing as everyone looked to be rather concerned with their own business for once. We walked in pregnant silence for awhile, her shoulders tense with secrecy and vigilance and my footsteps falling short with uncertainty. Was he pulling her out of school? Had she owled him about her run-in with me, and now I would be kicked out as well?

I licked my lips out of nervousness and pulled at her arm, stopping us before she had the chance to take another step. "What's going on, Lavinia?" When she averted her eyes, I yanked a little harder. "No, don't do that! You told me that in order for us to work together, we had to have full trust in one another. It's your turn to prove yourself." I crossed my arms sassily, not ready to take no for an answer.

Lavinia sighed loudly, her fingers coming up to her face to pinch the bridge of her nose.

She blew out a short breath before starting. "I'm not quite sure myself, though Verlaine is adamant that this has to do with our pending _betrothals_ between families." I shuddered at her use of the word 'betrothals'- did all male purebloods treat their children like pieces of meat to be bartered for money and power? "But if Lord Malfoy is here, I am not so sure." When I sent her a questioning look, she threw me a pitying look and leaned against the closest stone wall for support.

Lavi smiled darkly, a memory perhaps playing out in her mind as she spoke. "Abraxas can have his pick of the litter," I scowled at her analogy but didn't dare interrupt her, "_anytime _he pleases. He doesn't need his father to come down to Hogwarts in support of his decision." The thought of having to marry any generation of Malfoy made my insides twist. They were a congregation of pig-headed, cocky bigots with far too much money and influence for their own good. "I personally think it has something to do with Grindelwald mess."

I was taken aback by her blunt response. Grindelwald… that name made me cringe with contempt. He was a sloppy, foolish wizard that died out in a rather lame manner by way his best friend's hand, our very own Dumbledore. "But hasn't he been captured?" I knew Dumbledore did not harm that vindictive brute as of yet, we still had about a year to go until such a time. "And what does it have to do with all of your fathers here?"

Lavi shut her eyes tight. "Since my father is Vicomte of an Eastern providence, he would have heard word of any rebuttal or alliance pertaining to that _vile _wizard. As well as Lord Malfoy or any other well-connected Wizard in the Ministry, so it is more reasonable to assume that's why they're here. Not for marriage proposals, but perhaps… extraction proposals." I believed that both hearts sank to the bottom of stomachs at her clarification. If she left, I could possibly have no ally at all for the rest of my time here. And if Grindelwald got a hold of her or the Brocklehurst family by some freak chance? Everything could be ruined.

And then another thought completely took me by surprise.

What if their fathers were here, for the very same reason the Nott's and Parkinson's fathers were here? To speak with Tom Riddle himself… to be convinced that by his side was where every single impressionable teen should be. I suddenly couldn't look at either them with a straight face anymore, so I merely looked back down at my shiny shoes. I truly could not trust anyone, could I?

**A/N: Thank you to every single one that still follows this story! **


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